Coluntbia  ^nitiem'tp 


LIBRARY 


BUDGET    OF    LETTERS. 


51005 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1847, 

By  William  D.  Ticknor  &  Co., 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


7  An 


boston: 

printed  by  thurston,  torry  and  co. 

31  Devonshire  Street. 


MY     FATHER 


PREFACE. 


I  SEND  forth  into  the  world  this  ''  Budget  of  Letters," 
with  no  lengthened  apology.  I  have  merely  to  say 
that  I  wrote  them  while  travelling  abroad  to  friends  at 
home.  Those  friends  have  repeatedly  asked  for  their 
publication,  but  for  various  reasons  I  have  hitherto 
refused  to  comply  with  their  request.  I  now  consent 
solely  for  their  gratification ;  and  as  the  account  of  the 
"things  which  I  saw,"  aiforded  them  pleasure,  so  now 
would  I  fain  hope,  it  will  interest  those  who  favor  it 
with  their  perusal. 


LETTERS 


0^r  Board  Ship  Burgundy, 
Off  Staten  Island,  March  26,  184—. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Here  we  lay  at  anchor,  the  wind  being  ahead,  and  how 
long  we  shall  have  to  stay  is  more  than  we  can  tell.  We 
had  an  opportunity  this  afternoon  to  go  up  to  the  city  with 
the  captain,  but  we  preferred  to  stay  on  board  ship,  that  we 
may  begin  to  feel  at  home  before  we  get  out  to  sea,  for  as 
you  may  well  imagine  every  thing  is  strange  to  us.  As  we 
stepped  on  board  this  morning,  our  ears  were  saluted  with 
sounds  that  seemed  more  appropriate  to  a  farm-yard  than  a 
ship.  We  turned  suddenly  and  saw  a  meek,  innocent  look- 
ing cow,  apparently  as  much  out  of  her  element  as  we  were ; 
and  that  she  might  have  somewhat  to  remind  her  of  her 
country  home,  sundry  pigs  were  squealing  near  by,  which 
sounds,  ever  and  anon,  were  relieved  by  the  noisy  geese,  the 
gobbling  turkey,  the  cackling  hen,  and  the  quacking  duck. 
From  the  appearance  of  this  live  stock,  we  judge  that  we 
shall  want  for  none  of  the  good  things  of  this  life,  and  with 
all  this  preparation  for  the  body,  the  mind  is  not  neglected, 
for  there  is  a  fine  library  on  board,  to  which  all  the  passen- 
gers have  access. 

We  have  ten  passengers  on  board,  but  three  of  whom  are 
Americans,  so  we  shall  be  quite  accustomed  to  the  clatter  of 
strange  tongues,  before  arriving  in  foreign  lands. 
1 


Ti  LETTERS. 

Our  hours  are  to  be,  breakfast  at  nine,  lunch  at  twelve, 
dinner  at  three,  tea  at  seven. 

I  cannot  write  more  at  present,  as  there  is  just  motion 
enough  of  the  ship  to  prevent  my  writing  with  ease. 

Friday,  half  past  one.  —  I  have  just  time  to  say  that 
we  are  now  under  way,  and  are  rapidly  nearing  Sandy 
Hook.  I  have  staid  on  deck  and  witnessed  all  the  move- 
ments preparatory  to  getting  out  to  sea,  and  I  have  almost 
been  stunned  by  the  orders  of  the  captain  and  mates,  given 
in  a  stentorian  tone  of  voice.  Our  pilot  is  soon  to  leave 
us ;  his  little  fragile  bark  follows  in  our  wake.  I  must  has- 
ten to  close  this,  so  I  may  send  it  by  him  to  the  city.  I 
look  forward  to  the  voyage  with  cheerfulness  and  perfect 
freedom  from  fear. 

Adieu.  *'  The  Lord  watch  over  me  and  thee  while  absent 
one  from  another." 


On  Board  Ship,  April  7lh. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

Thus  far  have  we  sped  on  our  seaward  flight.  There  is 
nothing  around  us  but  the  water  and  the  sky.  Before, 
behind,  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,  the  blue  sea 
stretches  out.  More  than  eighteen  hundred  miles  intervene 
between  us  and  our  beloved  home,  that  home  so  far  away, 
seeming  now  dearer  than  ever,  if  dearer  it  can  be.  Doubt- 
less you  will  feel  anxious  to  know  how  the  voyage  has  pros- 
pered with  us,  so  I  hasten  to  particularize,  and  if  I  should 
prove  too  minute  in  detailing  the  events  of  a  ship  life,  you 
will  please  bear  in  mind  that  I  am  surrounded  by  new  things, 
and  that  I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  are  as  ignorant  on 
these  subjects  as  I  am. 

You  will  see  by  the  date  of  this  that  we  have  been  almost 
two  weeks  at  sea,  and  you  are  ready  to  ask  if  I  am  tired  of 
''  a  life  on  the  ocean  wave."    I  answer,  "  No  !  by  no  means." 


LETTERS.  3 

For  me  there  is  no  monotony  in  the  sea,  but  all  is  vivid  and 
full  of  life  and  perpetual  change.  No  two  days  has  the  sea 
looked  alike,  yet  in  all  its  forms  and  changes  it  is  to  me  most 
beautiful  and  sublime. 

But  I  hear  you  say,  "  Have  you  not  been  sea-sick?"  Not- 
withstanding all  your  prognostications  that  I  should  be  sick 
for  at  least  ten  days,  I  have  not  been  sick  as  many  minutes. 
I  never  enjoyed  more  perfect  health  or  a  better  appetite  than 
since  I  came  on  board  ship.  Hereafter  sea-sickness  has  no 
terrors  for  me.  I  should  never  be  deterred  by  fear  of  that 
from    undertaking    any   voyage,   however  long,  but   should 

laugh  at  it  as  an  idle  tale.     But  think  not  that  dear has 

been  so  free  from  sea-sickness  as  I  have  been ;  no,  in  respect 
to  this  he  can  a  most  piteous  tale  unfold,  for  he  has  scarcely 
yet  been  able  to  leave  his  berth,  and  I  suppose  will  have  to 
suffer  more  or  less  till  we  get  on  land. 

Besides  having  escaped  sea-sickness,  I  have  been  free  from 
fear,  which  you  know  is  another  great  inconvenience  attend- 
ing a  first  voyage.  Think  not  from  this  that  we  have  sailed 
smoothly  on,  without  a  tempestuous  wind  to  ruffle  our  sails, 
or  to  stir  up  the  blue  waters.  Far  from  it,  for  scarcely  were 
we  out  of  sight  of  land,  before  a  storm  came  on  which  con- 
tinued two  nights  and  days.  It  commenced  in  the  middle  of 
the  night.  I  was  awakened  from  a  sound  sleep  by  a  sudden 
jar  which  almost  threw  me  from  my  berth.  At  first  I  could 
scarcely  realize  where  I  was.  The  wind  howled  and  whis- 
tled through  the  rigging,  the  waves  dashed  against  the  sides 
of  the  ship,  ever  and  anon  sweeping  across  the  deck  ;  the 
captain  was  issuing  his  orders  through  a  trumpet,  there  was 
a  sound  over  my  head  of  the  heavy  tramping  of  men,  and 
every  plank  in  the  ship  seemed  to  have  a  separate  creak  and 
squeak  as  she  rocked  to  and  fro.  My  heart  quailed,  and  I 
thought  if  ever  I  got  on  land,  it  would  be  long  ere  I  would 
again  brave  the  dangers  of  the  deep.  It  was  but  for  a  mo- 
ment, however,  for  I  knew  that  though  "  the  waves  of  the 
sea  were  mighty,  yet  the  Lord  who  dwelleth  on  high  was 


4  LETTERS. 

mightier,"  and  I  remembered  that  once  when  the  seas  raged 
high,  there  came  a  gentle  voice  that  said  "  Peace,  be  still." 
I  sang  to  myself  a  verse  of  the  Psalm  that  was  sung  the  last 
Sunday  I  was  in Church, 

"  The  floods,  O  Lord,  lift  up  their  voice, 
And  toss  the  troubled  waves  on  high  ; 

But  God  above  can  still  their  noise, 
And  make  the  angry  sea  comply." 

And  I  soon  fell  asleep  as  calmly  as  though  I  had  been  soothed 
by  some  gentle  lullaby,  instead  of  the  roaring  of  the  waters. 

The  wind  during  these  two  days  and  nights,  happily  for 
us,  was  fair,  and  we  sped  quickly  on  our  destined  way.  It 
was  too  rough  for  me  however  to  be  up,  so  I  kept  my  berth 
the  most  of  the  time,  and  thus  was  prevented  from  witness- 
in  o-  that  dread  sublimity  which  attends  the  ocean  in  a  storm. 
Although  I  have  not  seen  the  sea  in  all  its  fury,  I  have  beheld 
itj  when,  though  the  storm  had  ceased,  the  waves  had  not 
grown  calm,  but  were  still  heaving  and  tossing,  as  if  they 
could  not  soon  forget  their  former  rage.  But  I  can  no  more 
at  present,  for  it  requires  a  steady  hand  to  write  when  a  ship 
is  ploughing  through  the  water  at  the  rate  of  eight  or  ten 
knots  an  hour. 

Sunday,  A-pril  Wth. — A  Sunday  at  sea! — how  different 
from  a  Sunday  on  land.  There  the  sun  seems  to  shine 
brighter,  the  skies  look  softer  ;  the  hum  of  business,  the 
strife  of  tongues  are  stilled,  and  every  thing  seems  to  partake 
of  the  quiet  and  calm  of  the  holy  day.  But  here  there  is 
nothing  to  distinguish  this  from  any  other  day.  No  sound 
of  the  church-going  bell  strikes  upon  the  ear  ;  no  voice  of 
prayer  and  praise  is  heard.  But  is  there  here  no  sanctuary 
in  which  to  worship  God  ?  Ah  yes  !  The  hoarse  voice  of  old 
ocean,  the  mighty  tones  of  the  sea,  boundless  and  fathomless, 
call  us  to  prayer  and  praise.  Here  is  a  fit  temple  in  which 
we  may  bow  before  the  Great  and  Mighty  God.  The  sea  is 
indeed  the  "  throne  of  the  Invisible,"  so  "  boundless,  endless 


LETTERS.  5 

and  sublime,"  it  is  the  "  very  image  of  eternity."  Here  God 
is  seen  in  all  His  power.  Vv'hether  "calm  or  convulsed," 
His  name  and  attributes  are  written  on  its  blue  bosom.  Oh 
my  soul  !  learn  here  a  lesson  of  the  greatness  of  that  Being 
thou  adorest !  Learn  to  trust  more  in  the  power  of  Him 
who  holds  the  waters  in  His  hands,  and  guides  the  winds 
and  directs  the  storms. 

To-day  is  Easter,  the  day  in  which  our  loved  Lord  threw 
off  the  bands  of  death  and  rose  triumphant  from  the  grave. 
To-day,  in  our  own  dear  church,  many  that  we  love  have 
gathered  around  that  board  where  were  spread  the  emblems 
of  a  dying  Saviour's  love.     And  were   there   none  in   that 

church,  and  in  the  dear  church  at  13 ,  who  thought  of 

us?  Ah  yes  !  we  would  fain  believe  that  many  prayers  were 
offered  for  us  and  for  our  preservation  on  the  great  deep  ; 
and  though  not  with  them  in  person,  yet  in  spirit  were  we 
there,  and  many  dear  faces  have  come  before  our  eyes  to-day. 

'Tis  night  upon  the  sea,  a  glorious  night.  The  moon  and 
the  stars  look  lovingly  down;  the  world  of  waters  around 
me  seems  sleeping  beneath  their  pure  light.  I  have  gazed 
upon  the  calm  and  spiritual  beauty  of  this  scene,  till  I  have 
felt  almost  raised  above  the  earth.  I  think  of  ray  distant 
home  across  the  wide  Atlantic,  and  I  adore  the  power  of 
Him  who  can  watch  over  us  in  all  our  roamings  by  sea  and 
by  land,  and  over  you  who  are  now  in  the  calm  stillness  of  a 
Sabbath  evening  at  home. 

Tuesday  \2th. — We  are  still  going  "  onward,  right  on- 
ward," and  if  this  wind  continues,  in  a  few  days  we  shall  be 
in  Havre.  Still,  though  anxious  to  commence  our  journey 
on  land,  we  shall  be  quite  sorry  to  bid  the  sea  adieu,  and 
shall  resume  with  pleasure  our  acquaintance  with  it  in  the 
autumn. 

We  have  just  risen  from  lunch;  it  is  one  o'clock ;  with 

you  it  is  about  nine ;  such  is  the  difference  of  time  as  we  go 

farther  eastward.     I  have  said  nothing  to   you  as  yet,  about 

our  companions  on  board  ship.     I  find  them  all  pleasant  and 

1* 


6  LETTERS. 

agreeable.  Shall  I  give  you  a  slight  sketch  of  us  as  we  sit 
at  table  ?  At  the  head  sits  the  captain,  a  large  and  well  pro- 
portioned man,  with  full  red  cheeks,  looking  like  what  he 
really  is,  a  nice,  cheerful,  jolly  companion.     Next    to   him 

sits  Mademoiselle  H ,  a  young  lady  just  in  her  teens,  a 

pleasant,  agreeable  girl.  Beside  her  sits  her  father,  a  grey- 
headed gentleman,  whose  prominent  feature  is  his  nose. 
Then  come  Messrs.  D.  and  De  L.,  the  life  of  the  company, 
both  lively,  boisterous  Frenchmen,  always  singing  and  full 
of  fun  and  humor.  Next  is  Mr.  B.,  another  Frenchman, 
quiet  and  gentlemanly,  with  whom  I  have  not  as  yet  ex- 
changed a  word.  Come  we  back  to  the  head  of  the  table. 
Opposite  Captain  L.,  behold  your   correspondent,  Madame 

,  for  that  is  now  my  title.     The  next  seat  is  generally 

vacant,  as  J.  is  rarely  able  to  take  his  meals  with  us.  Then 
comes  Mr.  A.,  a  young  Philadelphian,  and  the  only  Ameri- 
can besides  ourselves.  Next  to  him  sits  Mr.  M.,  a  pleasant 
quiet  man,  who,  after  residing  twenty-four  years  in  the  United 
States,  is  returning  to  his  beloved  Switzerland  to  visit  his 
aged  father.  Then  comes  Mr.  U.,  a  young  German,  who  is 
revisiting  his  home  after  four  years'  absence.  Last  of  all  sits 
Mr.  C,  the  first  mate,  an  unobtrusive  man,  but  always  ready 
to  impart  all  information  in  his  power.  This  completes  our 
party  at  table.  We  are  lively  and  sociable,  as  well  we  may 
be,  feasting  daily  on  the  bounties  of  the  land  and  the  sea. 
A  great  deal  of  our  time  is  spent  on  deck ;  we  are  allowed 
to  talk  with  the  sailors,  provided  they  are  not  on  active  duty. 
No  one  is  permitted  to  speak  to  the  man  at  the  helm.  The 
officers  are  amused  at  my  attempts  to  imitate  their  orders, 
and  laugh  heartily  at  my  confounding  names  and  things  on 
board  ship ;  as  for  instance,  for  a  long  time  I  persisted  in 
calling  "  weather  braces,"  leather  braces.  I  believe  I  am 
rarely  on  deck  when  Mr.  L.,  the  second  mate  is  on  duty,  but 
that  he  is  giving  some  orders  about  the  topsails.  Hence  we 
call  him  "  the  topsail  reefer." 

We  have    on   board  sixty-three  persons ;  ten  cabin  and 


LETTERS.  T 

twenty  steerage  passengers,  twenty-four  sailors,  the  captain, 
two  mates,  a  carpenter,  two  cooks,  two  stewards,  and  one 
chambermaid.  The  sailors  are  divided  into  two  watches, 
having  a  mate  at  the  head  of  each  watch ;  each  watch  re- 
mains on  deck  four  hours.  At  half-past  eight  "  one  bell  " 
strikes,  at  nine  "  two  bells,"  and  so  on  till  '*  eight  bells  "  are 
struck,  and  the  four  hours  are  passed.  This  ends  one  watch 
and  begins  another.  But  the  afternoon  watch  is  divided,  the 
watch  then  lasting  but  two  hours ;  this  is  called  the  "  dog 
watch,"  and  is  thus  arranged  in  order  that  the  watch  that 
was  last  night  eight  hours  on  deck,  may  to-night  be  but  four. 
The  sailors  live  well,  having  plenty  of  meat,  potatoes,  cod- 
fish and  rice.  When  the  morning  watch  goes  in  at  half  past 
eight,  they  take  their  breakfast,  the  other  watch  having  taken 
theirs  just  before.  At  half  past  twelve  they  have  their  dinner, 
and  at  half  past  six  their  supper. 

The  mornings  have  been  foggy  and  unpleasant,  so  that  I 
have  not  yet  witnessed  "  a  sunrise  at  sea."  The  captain  has 
promised  to  call  me  some  fair  morning. 

To-day  we  have  seen  four  vessels.  This  is  a  sign  that  we 
are  approaching  land.  One  passed  quite  near  us.  It  was 
an  exciting  scene,  and  although  it  was  raining  quite  fast,  we 
all  staid  on  deck  till  she  was  far  from  us.  We  hoisted  the 
"  star  spangled  banner,"  and  she,  in  her  turn,  showed  Eng- 
lish colors.  The  wind  being  against  us  prevented  the  cap- 
tain from  speaking  her. 

The  "  first  day  of  April  "  there  were  many  sights  to  be 
seen ;  whales,  ships,  steamers,  and  I  know  not  what  else.  It 
was  not  till  after  I  had  two  or  three  times  rushed  on  deck  at 
the  risk  of  life  and  limb,  that  I  remembered  what  day  it  was, 
and  contented  myself  with  staying  below. 

One  day  last  week  I  saw  them  "  heave  the  log."  Instead 
of  seeing  a  "  log  "  going  over,  as  I  confidently  expected,  they 
threw  into  the  sea  a  little  triangular  piece  of  cork  attached 
to  a  long  cord,  which  was  knotted  at  intervals.  A  sailor 
stood  by  with  an  hour-glass  in  his  hand,  and  by  counting  the 


8  LETTERS. 

number  of  knots  let  out  during  so  many  seconds,  could  of 
course  tell  the  speed  of  the  ship.  Thus  from  counting  the 
knots,  arose  the  expression  so  many  "  knots  an  hour." 

Wednesday ^  I2th. — Last  evening  saw  the  light-house  off 
Scilly  Isle.  The  captain  came  in  with  the  news  just  as  we 
were  taking  tea.  Instantly  there  was  a  rush.  The  deck 
was  wet  and  slippery,  and  it  was  raining  fast,  but  we  all 
stood  a  few  minutes  to  see  the  light.  It  is  a  revolving  light 
and  had  just  disappeared  as  we  went  out.  This  morning  at 
four,  we  passed  the  one  off  Lizard's  Isle,  two  hundred  miles 
from  Havre.  We  are  going  now  quite  rapidly  along, 
although  the  sea  is  as  calm  as  a  little  lake,  and  we  can 
scarcely  perceive  the  slightest  motion.  We  are  told  that  we 
shall  breakfast  to-morrow  in  Havre.  Our  pilot  has  just  come 
on  board.  We  gathered  around  him  as  though  a  man  was  a 
queer  animal,  but  it  really  seemed  strange  to  see  a  different 
face  from  those  we  had  seen  for  twenty  days. 

Thursday. — This  morning  I  was  almost  tempted  to  be 
angry,  for  you  must  know  I  had  quite  set  my  heart  on  wit- 
nessing a  sunrise  at  sea.  Now  last  night  I  engaged  Mr.  C, 
whose  watch  it  would  be  this  morning,  to  call  me  early,  if 
there  was  promise  of  a  fine  sunrise.  Well,  I  was  aroused  by 
a  tap  on  my  window;  I  jumped  up,  threw  on  my  dressing- 
gown  and  sea-cap,  and  almost  in  a  moment  stood  upon  deck, 
but "  lo  and  behold,"  the  sun  was  already  risen  !  I  had  a  great 
mind  to  be  provoked  with  him,  but  finally  concluded  I  would 
not,  so  I  laughed  it  off  and  went  to  my  berth  again.  But  to 
sleep  was  entirely  out  of  the  question,  as  all  the  passengers 
started  this  morning  betimes,  hoping  to  breakfast  in  Havre. 
You  would  hardly  believe  so  much  noise  could  be  made  by 
so  few  people.  Trunks  were  moved  about,  carpet  bags  were 
tossed  hither  and  thither,  while  the  Frenchmen  shouted  and 
sung  louder  than  ever,  which  certainly  was  quite  needless. 
When  I  went  out  to  breakfast  I  stared  with  astonishment  at 
the  change  that  had  come  over  the  passengers.  Old  hats 
and  caps  had  been  consigned  to  oblivion  ;  old  coats  and  pan- 


LETTERS.  9 

taloons  were  among  **  the  things  that  had  been,"  while  in 
their  places  appeared  shining  beavers,  and  clothes  of  the 
nicest  cloth  and  latest  cat.  After  breakfast  we  all  rushed 
"en  masse  "  on  deck,  to  see  who  would  be  the  first  to  discover 
land.  It  was  a  lovely  morning.  The  air  was  balmy,  the  sea 
calm  and  clear,  and  the  ship  moved  along  as  gracefully  as  a 
swan,  "  when  floating  down  from  his  native  grove."  The 
hours  rolled  on  ;  lunch  came,  and  even  dinner.  Visions  of 
oysters  that  had  come  before  our  eyes,  that  we  had  antici- 
pated eating  at  this  hour,  now  floated  away  far  down  the  dim 
perspective.  Murmurs,  loud  and  deep,  were  heard  on  every 
side.  Now  it  was  quite  a  joke  our  having  to  dine  to-day  on 
board  ship,  for  they  of  the  galley,  supposing  yesterday  was 
to  have  been  our  last  dinner  on  board,  gave  us  a  sumptuous 
repast.  But  hark  !  I  hear  a  shout.  "Land!"  cries  the 
man  aloft;  "  land  !  "  echoes  the  captain;  "  land,  land  !  " 
shouted  the  passengers,  and  a  loud  huzza  testified  their  joy. 
I  ran  on  deck.  The  cliffs  of  Havre  were  seen  in  the  dis- 
tance, looking  like  white  clouds  with  a  roseate  tinge.  We 
gradually  approach  nearer  and  nearer,  but  still  there  is  no 
prospect  of  getting  on  shore  to-night.  The  Frenchmen  are 
more  uneasy  and  fidgety  than  ever,  while  we  take  all  with 
our  usual  calmness,  and  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  inconveni- 
ences of  travelling.  Towards  night  some  small  boats  came 
along  side,  and  offered  to  take  us  ashore.  All  went  but  Mr. 
H.  and  his  daughter  and  ourselves.  How  still  we  are  this 
evening !  You  would  not  fancy  this  to  be  the  same  ship  we 
have  been  in  so  long.  No  singing,  no  laughing  is  heard ; 
no  cries  to  the  steward  for  "  whiskey  punch  "  break  in  upon 
the  stillness.  We  go  to  our  state-room,  knowing  that  this  is 
our  last  night  on  board  ship,  and  we  almost  sigh  to  think 
our  voyage  has  been  so  quick.  I  close  this  long  letter  here, 
hoping  to  be  able  to  send  it  off  to-morrow  as  soon  as  we  get 
on  shore.  When  next  you  hear  from  us,  we  shall  be  amid 
the  stirrinfj  scenes  of  the  old  world.  Adieu. 


10  LETTERS. 

Havre,  April  16. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

After  being  twenty-one  days  at  sea,  we  have  once  more 
set  our  feet  on  "  terra  firma."  Amid  all  the  bustle  of  arriving 
in  a  foreign  land,  and  surrounded  by  the  utmost  confusion 
of  tongues,  1  am  almost  bewildered ;  and  were  it  not  that  I 
still  see  around  me  the  faces  of  our  former  companions,  I 
should  really  feel  like  a  "  stranger  in  a  strange  land."  But 
I  will  give  you  the  details  of  our  arrival  here.  This  morn- 
ing we  were  called  before  sunrise,  as  the  pilot's  little  sloop 
was  seen  coming  for  us.  But  think  not  we  got  off  thus 
early.  No,  we  were  not  so  fortunate,  for  the  steerage  pas- 
sengers had  to  go  with  us.  It  took  a  long  while  to  lower 
down  their  baggage,  for  they  were  encumbered  with  many  a 
"great  trunk,  little  trunk,  bandbox  and  bundle."  Some  of 
the  trunks  looked  as  though  they  were  made  just  after  the 
flood,  or  at  least  when  trunks  first  came  in  fashion,  for  they 
bore  about  them  the  evident  marks  of  antiquity.  Finally, 
all  the  baggage  was  removed,  and  then  came  *'  the  live 
stock,"  consisting  of  men,  women,  and  children.  We  all 
had  to  descend  a  parpendicular  ladder,  no  easy  task  I  can 
assure  you.  At  last  we  got  off,  and  we  bade  good  bye  with 
regret  to  the  good  ship  Burgundy,  to  her  pleasant  officers 
and  orderly  crew.  Our  parting  injunction  to  Mr.  L.  was 
not  to  forget  the  topsails. 

Havre  presents  a  fine  appearance  as  you  approach  it  from 
the  sea.  High  cliffs  protect  it  on  one  side,  while,  on  the  other, 
the  land  slopes  gradually  down  to  the  water's  edge.  The 
fields  look  green  and  fertile,  and  the  trees  are  in  full  bloom. 
The  harbor  is  very  good;  two  piers  of  superior  workman- 
ship extend  some  ways  into  the  water,  forming  a  kind  of 
basin,  or  inner  harbor.  As  we  neared  the  wharf,  some  small 
boats  came  off,  in  which  were  men  from  different  hotels, 
each  one  eager  to  recommend  his  own.  Such  a  clattering  and 
jabbering,  and  such  a  thrusting  of  cards  into  our  hands,  I 
never  before  witnessed.     All  I  could  distinoruish  was  "  Hotel 


LETTERS.  11 

de  Paris,"  "  Hotel  de  Londre,"  and  I  can't  tell  how  many 
other  •'  hotels."  At  last  came  one  from  "  Hotel  d'Europe," 
where  our  fellow  passengers  had  gone.  This  man  came  on 
board  and  accompanied  us  on  shore.  No  sooner  had  we 
landed  than  we  were  surrounded  by  a  file  of  soldiers,  who, 
with  charged  bayonets,  marched  us  to  the  custom-house. 
Was  not  this  a  formidable  beginning  of  our  travels?  As  for 
our  humble  selves,  we  began  to  think  we  were  of  some 
consequence  in  the  world,  that  our  arrival  should  cause  such 
a  stir.  As  we  entered  the  custom-house  an  officer  came  to 
Miss  H.  and  myself  and  said,  "  tobac,  segars  ?"  VVe  drew 
ourselves  up  to  our  utmost  height  (we  are  both  quite  short) 
and  said  with  supreme  indignation,  "No!  ladies  in  America 
do  not  use  such  things."  Mr.  H.  and  J.  had  their  pockets 
punched  and  their  hats  searched,  to  see  if  they  bore  about 
any  contraband  articles.  Having  gone  through  this  personal 
examination,  our  keys  were  demanded,  and  our  trunks 
opened.  Into  these,  however,  they  but  barely  looked,  and 
then  we  were  allowed  to  go  off  in  peace.  How  we  stared 
about,  as  we  walked  to  the  hotel,  every  thing  was  so  strano-e 
to  us.  The  constant  jabbering  of  French  would  have  struck 
us  still  more  strangely  than  it  did,  if  we  had  not  been  in 
some  degree  accustomed  to  it  on  board  ship. 

We  had  not  walked  two  steps  from  the  custom-house, 
before  I  stopped  short  and  stared  at  the  queerest  little  cart, 
and  the  oddest  harnessed  horse  that  I  ever  saw,  the  collar 
rising  far  above  the  horse's  head.  I  could  not  speak  for 
laughing,  but  could  only  stand  and  point  at  it.  Then  there 
were  women  wearing  caps  instead  of  bonnets,  and  havino-  on 
great  wooden  shoes,  which  went  "  clumpy-ti-clump"  alono- 
the  stone  pavements,  causing  us  many  a  time  to  start,  think- 
ing a  horse  was  after  us.  Then  we  saw  little  donkeys  with 
great  baskets  slung  across  their  backs,  so  that  no  part  of  the 
animal  was  seen  but  his  feet  and  ears.  Between  the  baskets 
were  frequently  perched  a  man  and  a  woman,  with  often  a 
child  or  two  seen  peeping  from  the  basket.     The  houses  too 


12  LETTERS. 

are  odd  ;  they  are  high  and  narrow,  and  built  of  stone,  hav- 
ing windows  opening  up  and  down  through  the  middle  like 
blinds.  These  when  open  give  a  house  an  airy  appearance. 
The  paving  stones  are  flat  on  the  top,  and  are  three  or  four 
times  laro-er  than  those  at  home,  and  thus  one  can  walk  on 
them  quite  as  easy  as  on  the  sidewalks.  In  fact  only  the 
principal  streets  have  sidewalks. 

And  now  behold  us  arrived  at  the  "  Hotel  d' Europe,"  a 
large,  stone  house  built  around  a  court.  You  may  well  ima- 
gine we  soon  called  for  breakfast,  it  being  eleven  o'clock  when 
we  arrived.  There  being  no  public  table  for  breakfast,  each 
one  calls  for  whatever  he  chooses.  We  made  our  breakfast 
of  oysters,  which  however  have  a  different  taste  from  our 
oysters.  After  breakfast  we  took  a  long  walk.  Again  our 
attention  was  all  absorbed  by  the  novel  sights  and  sounds  by 
which  we  were  surrounded.  You  know  my  aversion  to 
dogs  ;  well,  one  kept  constantly  at  my  heels.  I  attempted  by 
threats  and  scoldings  to  get  rid  of  it,  but  in  vain.  At  last  it 
suddenly  popped  into  my  head,  that  probably  the  dog  did  not 
understand  English,  so  I  spoke  to  it  in  French,  and  if  you 
will  believe  me,  it  instantly  obeyed.     Curious,  was'nt  it  1 

The  shops  are  fine  looking,  though  there  is  not  a  great 
variety  of  them,  the  most  of  them  being  occupied  as  cafes 
and  for  toys,  jewelry  and  embroideries.  Caps  are  in  almost 
all  windows ;  you  see  no  bonnets.  Some  of  them  are  very 
beautiful,  others  are  of  common  materials,  adapted  for  the 
lower  classes. 

We  dined  to-day  at  half-past  five.  As  this  was  our  first 
dinner  on  shore,  you  will  permit  me  to  give  you  a  little 
account  of  it.  The  meats  were  in  covered  dishes,  and  the 
dessert  was  all  on  the  table  when  we  sat  down.  First  we 
had  soup  ;  this  was  served  the  same  as  at  our  hotels  at 
home,  then  beef,  mutton,  chickens,  game,  &c.  These 
were  all  successively  carried  to  the  head  of  the  table,  where 
they  were  carved  and  then  sent  round  to  each  individual. 
If  you  do  not  choose  to  eat  of  the  first  dish,  you  must 


LETTERS.  13 

wait  till  the  second  is  sent  round,  and  so  on.  At  dessert, 
however,  each  one  can  help  himself.  At  each  plate  to-day 
was  a  bottle  of  wine. 

This  evening,  notwithstanding  our  fatigue,  we  again 
walked  out.  The  streets  were  full  of  people,  the  shops  were 
brilliantly  lit  up,  and  there  were  crowds  around  each  win- 
dow, all  gazing  as  though  they  had  never  seen  the  like 
before,  and  yet  I  am  told  this  occurs  every  evening.  It 
seemed  like  the  evening  of  the  Fourth  of  July  as  it  is  with 
us,  except  that  here  was  no  riotous  noise  or  confusion. 

Saturday  Morning. — I  have  time  merely  to  say,  that  we 
are  soon  to  start  in  the  Diligence  for  Rouen.  I  must  soon 
seal  this,  as  in  a  few  minutes  the  mail  leaves  for  England, 
and  I  wish  to  send  it  by  the  steamer  that  sails  from  Liver- 
pool on  Monday,  and  thus  you  will  hear  from  us  two  weeks 
sooner  than  you  anticipated  when  we  left  home.  Oh  !  I 
must  not  forget  to  tell  you  that  this  morning  when  our  bill 
was  given  us,  there  was  a  separate  charge  for  every  thing 
that  we  had  had,  even  to  the  use  of  a  candle  in  our  room  last 
night.    But  my  letter  is  called  for :   so  for  the  present  adieu. 


Rouen,  Saturday  Evening. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Late  as  it  is,  I  cannot  think  of  retiring  for  the  night  with- 
out giving  you  the  events  of  this  day,  for  so  much  of  our 
time  is  taken  up  in  sight-seeing,  that  I  dare  not  postpone  my 
letters  for  a  single  day,  for  fear  of  getting  too  far  behindhand. 
We  went  soon  after  ten  o'clock  to  the  Diligence  office ;  for 
you  must  know  they  do  not  come  for  us  at  home,  but  we 
have  to  get  ourselves  and  baggage  conveyed  to  the  office. 
We  bade  farewell  to  our  fellow  passengers,  excepting  Mr. 
and  Miss  H.,  and  Mr.  M.,  who  accompanied  us  here.  The 
Diligence  is  about  as  large  as  one  of  our  large  omnibuses, 
2 


14  LETTERS. 

and  is  divided  into  three  parts,  "  the  Coupe,"  "  Interieur," 
and  **  the  Rotund."  The  '*  Conductor"  sits  on  top.  Un- 
derneath him  is  "  the  Coupe,"  which  can  accommodate  but 
three  persons ;  this  is  the  best  seat,  as  it  is  open  both  in  front 
and  at  the  sides,  and  of  course  commands  the  finest  view  of 
the  country.  "The  Interieur"  holds  six  persons,  and  is 
open  at  both  sides ;  this  is  the  next  best  seat.  Last  of  all 
comes  "  the  R-otund,"  which  will  seat  four,  six  or  eight  per- 
sons, according  to  the  size  of  the  Diligence.  This  is  open 
at  both  sides  and  at  the  back,  and  cculd  one  always  get 
the  first  choice  of  a  seat,  he  might  get  along  nicely,  but  if 
he  should  have  to  sit  between  two  fat  passengers,  he  would 
find  his  vision  somewhat  bounded  by  his  neighbors'  sides 
and  elbows.  "  The  Coupe  "  is  five  francs,  and  "  the  Inte- 
rieur "  two  more  than  "  the  Rotund."  The  lower  classes  of 
people  generally  ride  in  this  last,  and  to-day  we  were  obliged 
to  take  our  seats  there  too,  as  all  the  other  seats  had  been 
previously  taken  up.  Indeed  "  the  Coupe  "  is  often  engaged 
a  week  beforehand. 

The  country  for  twenty  or  thirty  miles  from  Havre  was 
exceedingly  beautiful.  The  grass  was  green  and  the  trees 
in  full  bloom ;  not  a  fence  or  a  wall  was  to  be  seen,  haw- 
thorn hedges  entirely  taking  their  place.  In  order  that  the 
cows  and  donkeys  might  not  trespass,  each  had  a  rcpe  tied 
around  its  neck,  sometimes  fastened  to  a  tree,  and  as  often 
held  by  a  man,  woman,  or  child. 

We  passed  some  delightful  seats;  these  mostly  stood  some 
distance  from  the  road,  and  had  fine  avenues  of  trees  leading 
to  them.  The  trees  however  were  clipped,  which  gave  them 
rather  a  stiff  appearance. 

Sometimes  the  road  ran  in  sight  of  the  Seine,  the  banks 
of  which,  though  low,  abound  in  scenes  of  beauty.  After 
the  first  thirty  miles  the  country  grew  tamer  and  poorer. 
Limestone  hills  bordered  one  side  of  the  road.  In  the  ex- 
cavations of  these  hills,  whole  families  live,  nay,  I  may  say, 
whole  villacres  are  thus  formed. 


LETTERS.  15 

The  houses  of  the  common  people  in  the  country  through 
which  we  passed,  were  low,  seldom  more  than  one  story,  and 
nearly  all  had  thatched  roofs.  They  had  a  picturesque  ap- 
pearance, and  their  inhabitants  seemed  to  know  what  consti- 
tutes rural  beauty,  for  their  little  yards  were  planted  with 
flowers,  and  enclosed  by  the  hawthorn  hedge. 

The  road  was  wide  and  very  good,  and  so  singular  did  it 
seem  to  us  from  the  absence  of  walls,  that  it  appeared  as 
though  we  were  riding  across  some  large  meadow.  We  saw 
in  many  places  women  working  in  the  fields,  and  carrying 
on  their  heads  bundles  of  fagots  larger  than  many  of  our 
laboring  men  at  home  would  like  to  bear.  I  did  not  see 
any  bonnets,  all  wore  caps,  and  the  complexion  is  much 
better  than  one  would  imagine  it  to  be,  from  so  much  expo- 
sure to  the  sun.  The  women  wear  gowns  reaching  but 
little  below  the  waist,  and  petticoats  of  different  color  and 
materials  from  the  gown.  They  were  in  this  attire  all  along 
the  road ;  one  woman  rode  ten  miles  on  the  outside  of  the 
Diligence,  without  bonnet  or  shawl,  while  I  was  in  my  thick 
travelling  dress  and  cloak. 

Again  the  scene  changed,  and  became  highly  picturesque 
and  beautiful.  Rouen  lies  in  the  midst  of  a  fertile  country, 
and  often  from  the  winding  road  we  caught  sweet  glimpses 
of  this  ancient  place.  Just  as  we  entered  the  city,  what  do 
you  think  I  saw  ?  Yankee  though  you  are,  you  would  never 
guess.  It  was  a  woman  shaving  a  man  !  Yes,  a  woman 
barber !  only  think  of  it.  The  streets  of  Rouen  are  so 
very  narrow,  that  the  wheels  of  the  Diligence  almost  touched 
the  windows  on  either  side.  As  we  got  into  the  city  we 
had  cards  in  abundance  thrust  into  our  hands,  but  we  took 
the  hotel  nearest  to  the  Diligence  office,  which  is  the 
"  Hotel  Vatel." 

What  a  queer  room  we  are  in  ;  I  wish  you  could  see  it. 
You  would  wonder  where  we  are  to  sleep,  but  open  that 
large  cupboard  door,  see  that  small,  handsome  bedstead. 
Step    across    the  room    this  way ;  open    this   door,    behold 


16  LETTERS. 

another  bed.  In  another  little  recess  see  the  washstand 
and  dressing-table.  Is'nt  it  queer  ?  Yet  it  is  a  nice  arrange- 
ment, for  when  these  doors  are  shut,  it  gives  the  room  the 
appearance  of  a  parlor. 

Perhaps  you  think  we  contented  ourselves  with  sitting 
down  quietly  in  our  room  after  our  ride  of  sixty-six  miles. 
Well  then  you  are  quite  mistaken,  for  no  sooner  were  we 
rid  of  our  coats  and  cloaks,  than  taking  a  guide  with  us,  we 
started  out  to  view  the  city.  Here  was  just  such  another 
scene  as  we  witnessed  last  night  in  Havre.  There  were 
crowds  in  the  streets  before  the  shop  windows,  which,  as  we 
came  home,  were  lit  up  as  for  an  illumination.  In  our  walks 
we  passed  the  place  where  Joan  of  Arc  was  burnt,  where  a 
monument  is  erected  to  her  memory.  Adjoining  this  spot 
is  the  former  "  Hall  of  Justice,"  where  she  was  tried  and 
condemned.  On  the  lower  part  of  the  outside  of  this  build- 
ing is  sculptured  in  bas-relief  her  history.  Here  she  is  first 
seen  in  her  humble  capacity  as  a  peasant  girl ;  then  she  pre- 
sents herself  to  the  king  as  an  ambassadress  from  Heaven ; 
in  her  suit  of  armor  and  on  her  fiery  war  horse,  she  leads 
the  troops  to  battle,  and  the  English  are  seen  flying  before 
her.  The  very  peasant's  cap  she  is  represented  as  wearing 
is  the  same  as  those  now  worn  by  the  common  people,  and 
is  still  called  "  Joan's  cap."  It  is  a  high,  conical  cap, 
made  of  thick  muslin,  starched  very  stiff,  and  so  set  upon 
the  head  as  to  add  a  foot  or  two  to  the  height  of  the  wearer. 

We  just  looked  into  the  Town  Hall,  where  is  quite  a 
large  gallery  of  paintings,  called  the  Corneille  Gallery,  but 
it  was  too  late  to  examine  them  minutely,  so  we  went  into 
the  Library,  which  contains  about  fifty  thousand  volumes. 
On  the  table  lies  a  large  book,  bound  and  clasped  in  the 
most  antique  manner.  It  is  over  one  hundred  and  sixty 
years  old,  and  was  done  by  a  Dominican  monk,  who  was 
thirty  years  engaged  upon  it.  It  is  written  in  Latin,  and 
contains  the  Psalms  set  to  music,  and  histories  of  different 
events  in  the  life  of  our  Saviour,  each  event  illustrated  by  a 


LETTERS.  17 

p:iinLing  done  by  the  same  individual.  Tims  at  the  birth  cf 
Christ,  the  shepherds  are  seen  tending  their  flocks  by  night, 
while  an  angel  appears  to  them  proclaiming  the  glad  tidings. 
Thus,  too,  His  circumcision,  His  baptism.  His  miracles,  the 
last  supper,  the  crucifixion,  the  resurrection  and  the  ascen- 
sion, are  all  illustrated  by  paintings;  these  are  on  parchment, 
and  the  colors  are  as  bright  and  fresh  as  though  just  put  on. 
A  few  years  since  some  Englishmen  offered  ten  thousand 
dollars  for  it. 

In  this  library  is  a  glass  case,  in  which,  on  a  velvet  cushion, 
lie  two  keys  connected  together  by  a  silken  cord.  They  are 
of  silver  gilt,  and  are  the  keys  of  the  city,  presented  to  Na- 
poleon on  his  passage  up  the  Seine. 

I  am  really  too  tired  to  write  more  at  present,  so  must 
bid  you  good  night. 

Sunday. — How  different  has  this  day  been  from  a  Sunday 
in  our  own  city  !  This  day,  in  this  country,  seems  to  be  the 
day  of  days,  not  for  worshipping  God,  but  for  recreation  and 
amusement.  As  there  is  no  English  place  of  worship  here, 
we  went  this  morning  to  the  Cathedral.  It  is  an  imposing 
edifice,  but  I  am  not  sufficiently  versed  in  architecture  to 
give  you  a  description  of  it.  We  entered,  by  a  large  door, 
at  once  into  the  interior  of  the  church ;  the  ceiling  is  lofty, 
supported  by  massy  pillars.  There  are  no  pews,  but  hun- 
dreds of  little  flag-seated,  common  looking  chairs  are  scat- 
tered about.  Fastened  to  the  pillars,  at  the  entrance,  are 
basins  containing  the  holy  water,  into  which  those  going  in 
dip  their  fingers,  and  make  on  their  foreheads  the  sign  of 
the  cross.  This  is  done  without  any  apparent  reverence 
whatever.  When  we  went  in,  there  were  many  persons  in 
the  church,  some  sitting,  some  kneeling,  but  few  there  were 
who  seemed  devoutly  to  worship  God.  Even  the  kneeling 
ones  would  follow  us  about  v/ith  their  eyes,  wherever  we 
went. 

Within  the  chancel  were  many  priests,  and  several  boys 
who  assisted  in  the  service,  though  what  they  said,  or  what 


18  LETTEPwS. 

they  did,  or  what  it  all  meant,  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  They 
were  all  dressed  in  scarlet  robes,  with  a  white  mantle  over 
them.  In  the  midst  of  the  service  some  of  the  priests  and 
the  boys  disappeared,  and  came  back  dressed  in  black,  in- 
stead of  scarlet.  They  then  went  out  of  the  church  in  a 
procession,  to  attend  a  funeral.  All  this  time  the  people  were 
oroinor  in  and  coming  out  just  as  they  pleased.  Here  were 
the  common  people  in  their  caps  and  short  gowns,  with  their 
baskets  of  provisions  on  their  arms,  and  there  were  high- 
born ladies  in  their  silks  and  velvets ;  all  were  mixed  toge- 
ther, and  the  small  slipper  was  seen  side  by  side  with  the 
great  wooden  shoe. 

This  church  has  several  towers,  and  still  another  is  being 
built  of  iron,  which,  when  finished,  will  be  the  highest  in 
Europe.  In  one  of  the  towers  are  four  bells,  whose  soft 
chimes,  now  at  eventide,  come  floating  upon  the  air,  filling 
my  ears  with  their  sweet  music. 

When  we  came  out  of  the  church,  we  saw  some  boys 
spinning  their  tops  upon  the  steps.  As  we  came  back  to 
our  hotel,  we  should  never  have  judged  from  the  appearance 
of  the  streets,  that  it  was  a  day  of  rest.  Here,  we  saw 
stands  of  fruits  and  flowers,  and  there  stalls,  where  were  ex- 
hibited for  sale  every  article  of  wearing  apparel,  and  all 
kinds  of  household  utensils,  both  new  and  old.  Here,  we 
passed  a  crowd  of  people  gathered  round  a  man  who  seemed 
to  be  acting  some  kind  of  a  play,  and  there  another,  round 
one  who  was  playing  on  a  violin  and  singing,  and  still  ano- 
ther round  a  pole,  to  which  were  attached  little  wooden 
horses,  on  which  men,  boys,  and  even  girls  were  seated,  and 
which  swung  round  and  round  with  amazing  velocity. 

How  we  have  sighed  to-day  for  the  stillness  of  our  own 
home,  and  the  service  of  our  own  church  ! 

As  we  were  coming  out  from  dinner,  what  question  do 
you  think  the  hotel  keeper  asked  me  ?  Why,  if  I  was  going 
to  the  theatre  this  evening  !  What  can  be  the  religion  and 
morals    of  any  place,   where,    instead   of  the  church,  the 


LETTERS.  19 

theatre  is  open  on  the  Sabbath  evening  1  Apparently  no 
city  in  Fran:e  has  suffered  more  from  the  Revolution,  in  a 
religious  point  of  view,  than  Rouen,  for  previous  to  that 
event  there  were  thirty-six  churches  in  this  city ;  now  it  can 
boast  but  of  fourteen.  One,  that  was  once  consecrated  to 
the  service  of  the  living  God,  is  now  a  stable.  Yes,  a  fine 
stone  church,  with  its  Gothic  windows,  its  towers  and  but- 
tresses, is  now  thus  desecrated  !  The  arched  doorway, 
where  once  entered  many  a  robed  priest,  many  a  noble  lord, 
many  a  princely  dam.e,  is  now  an  entrance  for  **  the  horse 
and  his  rider !  "  The  walls,  which  once  were  vocal  with 
songs  of  praise  ascending  to  the  great  Creator,  now  resound 
to  the  neighing  of  steeds !  Such  is  one  of  the  effects  of 
that  Revolution,  when  the  Sabbath  was  abolished,  and  re- 
ligion pronounced  an  idle,  useless  thing  ! 

But  I  must  close,  for  we  leave  to-morrow  morning  at  one 
o'clock;  so  now,  farewell,  and  may  the  God  of  our  fathers 
have  you  in  his  holy  keeping. 


Paris,  April  21. 
My  dearest  P. : 

Behold  us  now  in  this  great  city  of  Paris,  the  city  where 

probably  are  combined  splendor  and  wealth  with  as  much 

squalid  wretchedness  and  poverty,  as  in  any  other  city  of 

the  globe.     You  expect  me  to  be  overwhelmed  with  the  first 

sight  of  this  great  metropolis,  and  to  be   in  ecstacies  with 

every  thing  I  see  and  hear  ?     I  am  sorry  to  dispossess  you 

of  this  idea,  but  the  circumstances  of  our  arrival  here  were 

such  as  to  excite  almost  any  other  feelings  than  those  of 

pleasure  or  admiration.     We  arrived  here  in  a  pouring  rain, 

and   it  has  rained   ever  since,  as  it  seems  to  me  it  can  rain 

only  in  Paris.     Besides,  I  had  not  then  got  over  the  fatigue 

of  my  first  day's  sight-seeing. 


20  LETTERS. 

But  you  may  like  to  hear  the  particulars  of  our  journey 
to  this  city,  so  here  you  have  them.  We  succeeded  in  get- 
ting seats  in  the  Diligence  that  left  Rouen  Monday  morning 
little  after  one  o'clock.  Before  we  started,  I  took  off  ray 
bonnet,  and  putting  on  my  quilted  cap,  settled  myself  to 
sleep,  and  by  the  time  we  were  well  out  of  the  city  I  was 
fast  locked  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus,  and  so  soundly  did  I 
sleep,  that  it  was  seven  o'clock  before  I  awoke.  Do  you 
not  think  I  am  well  calculated  for  journeying,  if  I  can  sleep 
at  that  rate  ? 

It  was  raining  quite  fast  when  I  awoke,  and  as  the  win- 
dows of  the  Diligence  were  closed  I  could  see  but  little  of 
the  country,  but  from  what  I  did  see,  it  did  not  seem  as 
beautiful  as  from  Havre  to  Rouen.  The  houses  w^ere  not 
scattered  along  the  road-side,  but  were  collected  together  in 
little  villages,  at  some  distance  from  each  other,  so  that  we 
often  rode  two  or  three  miles  without  seeing  a  house.  These 
villages  were  walled,  and  were  any  thing  but  interesting  ob- 
jects of  vision.  The  land  seemed  in  a  good  state  of  culti- 
vation. When  we  stopped  at  the  Diligence  office,  our 
trunks  were  examined,  though  but  slightly.  You  will  won- 
der why  it  was  necessary  to  have  this  done,  but  your  wonder 
cannot  be  greater  than  ours,  till  we  were  told  that  it  w^as  to 
prevent  the  possibility  of  smuggling  the  country  wines  into 
the  city.  Could  they  have  known  our  strict  temperance 
habits,  they  would  never  have  suspected  us ;  but  so  it  is  all 
the  world  over,  the  innocent  have  to  suffer  with  the  guilty. 

As  we  came  from  the  office,  a  man  asked  us,  as  I  thought, 
if  we  would  have  a  carriage  ;  and  I  said.  Yes.  So  he  lashed 
our  two  trunks  and  carpet-bag  on  his  back,  and  motioned 
for  us  to  follow.  He  started  off,  but  instead  of  his  being  a 
coachman,  we  found  he  was  a  porter,  and  so  we  had  to 
trudge  on,  in  all  the  rain  and  mud,  and,  as  it  seemed  to  us, 
through  all  the  streets  of  Paris.  At  length  we  came  to  a 
fine  row  of  buildings,  the  lower  story  arched,  and  supported 
by  pillars,  forming  a  beautiful   colonnade  the  whole  length 


LETTERS.  21 

of  the  Street.  On  the  other  side  was  the  garden  of  the 
Tuilleries,  so  we  knew  we  must  be  in  the  Rue  Rivoli.  We 
soon  reached  "  Hotel  Meurice,"  but  found  they  had  but  one 
room  to  spare,  and  that  was  in  the  upper  story.  However, 
as  we  expect  to  stay  only  long  enough  to  get  our  draft  set- 
tled, and  our  passports  ready  for  Italy,  we  thought  the  room 
would  be  a  secondary  matter.  Besides,  we  were  told  an- 
other room  would  be  empty  in  a  day  or  two,  so  we  agreed  to 
take  the  upper  chamber.  But,  "  goodness  me  1 "  I  thought 
we  never  should  reach  it.  Up  six  flights  of  stairs  we  toiled. 
We  sighed  and  groaned,  and  so  did  the  poor  porter,  and 
well  he  might  with  those  heavy  trunks  on  his  back ;  he  well 
deserved  his  four  francs.  As  soon  as  we  got  rid  of  the  mud 
and  dirt  that  had  accumulated  on  us  in  our  long  walk,  we 
started  out  to  find  Galignani's  bookstore,  as  we  wanted  his 
"  Paris  Guide."  After  losing  our  way  several  times,  and  mis- 
understanding our  directions  as  many  more,  we  made  out  to 
find  it,  but  not  till  my  poor  feet  ached  sadly ;  and  then  for 
my  consolation  I  had  to  think  of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty 
stairs  I  was  obliged  to  ascend  after  I  got  home.  Was  it  not 
dreadful  ? 

Yesterday  and  to-day  J.  has  been  busy  in  getting  the 
draft  and  the  passport  ready  for  Italy,  and  so  numerous  are 
the  formalities  we  have  to  go  through,  that  we  find  we  can- 
not get  away  before  Monday  ;  so  to-morrow  we  begin  the 
rounds  of  sight-seeing. 

This  is  one  of  the  largest  hotels  in  Europe.  It  is  built 
around  a  court,  or,  I  may  say,  two  or  three.  We  enter  the 
first  court  from  the  street  through  a  large  gateway.  On  the 
lower  floor  is  the  lodge  for  the  porter ;  which  word,  by  the 
way,  is  used  in  quite  a  different  sense  from  what  it  is  with 
you.  The  duty  of  a  porter  is  to  watch  all  that  go  in  or  out, 
and  all  packages  and  letters  are  left  with  him.  After  sunset 
the  gate  is  closed  ;  you  can  then  gain  admission  only  by 
knocking.  The  first  evening  that  we  walked  out,  we  were 
quite  surprised  to  find  the  gate  locked  though  it  was  quite 


22  LETTERS. 

early;  we  knocked  pretty  loudly,  and  while  the  knocker 
was  yet  in  our  hand,  the  gate  flew  open,  though  no  person 
was  visible.  We  have  since  found  out  that  there  is  a  cord 
attached  to  the  gate,  which  passes  into  the  porter's  lodge. 
The  moment  he  hears  the  knocker,  he  pulls  the  cord,  and 
the  gate  flies  open  as  by  magic.  This  cord  hangs  directly 
over  his  bed,  so  that  he  can  let  any  one  in  during  the  night 
without  being  obliged  to  get  up.  His  bed  is  in  such  a  posi- 
tion as  to  command  a  view  of  the  whole  court,  and  should 
any  one  enter  but  those  who  belong  to  the  hotel,  he  is 
instantly  on  the  alert. 

Each  person  staying  here  is  desired  to  lock  his  room  when 
going  out,  and  leave  his  key  in  a  little  office  on  the  lower 
floor.  One  day  I  came  in  from  walking,  and  hurried  to  my 
room,  counting  each  stair  as  I  went  up,  and  never  thought  of 
my  key  till  I  got  to  my  very  door,  and  then  I  had  to  go  way 
down  and  come  way  up  again.  Now  was  not  this  enough 
to  try  the  patience  of  a  more  Job-like  personage  than  I  am 
known  to  be  ? 

All  the  waiters  at  this  hotel  speak  English ;  this  makes  it 
a  great  resort  for  Englishmen  and  Americans.  As  soon  as 
we  arrived  here,  our  passport  was  demanded ;  it  was  sent  to 
the  Police  office,  where  were  registered  our  names,  the  hotel 
where  we  are,  and  even  the  very  room  we  occupy.  Every 
hotel  keeper  is  obliged  by  law  to  see  that  this  is  done. 
There  is  one  convenience  attending  this  arrangement.  If 
you  want  to  know  if  there  are  any  of  your  countrymen  in 
the  city,  you  have  only  to  step  to  the  Police  oflSce,  and  there 
you  will  find  out  where  they  are,  when  they  came,  and  what 
day  they  leave^  that  is,  if  their  passports  have  been  signed 
for  any  particular  day./  Let  me  give  you  another  instance 
of  its  conveniency.  A  stranger  arriving  in  Paris,  went  to  a 
hotel,  and  while  his  room  was  being  prepared  for  him,  saun- 
tered out  to  take  a  view  of  the  city.  His  attention  became 
so  much  engrossed  that  he  noticed  not  how  fast  time  flew, 
nor  how  far  he  had  walked,  and  when  he  began  to  retrace 


LETTERS.  ^ 

his  Steps,  he  became  so  bewildered,  as  utterly  to  forget  even 
the  name  of  the  hotel  where  he  had  stopped.  Now  here 
was  a  sad  predicament  for  a  stranger  in  a  strange  city.  He 
knew  not  where  to  go,  or  what  to  do.  At  last  he  suddenly 
remembered  of  having  heard  of  this  arrangement  I  have 
mentioned ;  so  he  took  a  carriage,  rode  to  the  Police  office, 
and  asked  if  they  could  tell  him  where  he  had  left  his  bag- 
gage. The  Commissary  instantly  turned  to  his  book, 
opened  at  the  page  corresponding  with  the  day  of  the  week, 
and  the  month,  gave  him  the  name  of  his  hotel,  and  the 
number  of  his  room,  and  also  told  him  w^here  he  came  from, 
and  whither  he  was  going.  Thus  he  found  that  a  stranger 
to  him  knew  more  of  his  own  affairs  than  he  did  himself. 
But  this  has  also  one  inconvenience  ;  you  are  overwhelmed^ 
with  cards  of  different  persons  and  different  trades.  Now, 
it  is  the  card  of  a  fashionable  tailor ;  then,  of  a  first-rate 
shoemaker  ;  now,  a  modest  note,  asking  your  subscription 
to  some  newspaper  ;  then,  an  earnest  request  for  a  donation 
to  an  orphan  society  or  some  such  object.  We  have  not  yet 
come  in  from  walking,  but  we  have  found  several  of  such 
cards  on  our  table.  But  I  have  digressed  far  from  my 
subject. 

We  dine  at  the  hotel  at  half  past  five.  The  dinners  are 
conducted  in  the  same  manner  as  at  Havre,  excepting  that 
when  we  sit  down,  nothing  is  seen  on  the  table  but  the  des- 
sert and  large  vases  of  flowers.  We  know  nothing  about 
what  we  are  to  eat,  till  it  is  passed  around  to  us.  We  have 
the  nicest  dinners  here,  and  every  thing  is  conducted  in  the 
most  orderly  manner  im.aginable.  We  take  our  breakfast  at 
a  cafe.  You  can  have  a  simple  or  a  most  sumptuous  repast; 
each  article  has  its  price,  and  you  pay  only  for  such  things 
as  you  call  for.  They  have  the  nicest  rolls  and  the  most 
cunning  little  cakes  of  butter  you  ever  saw.  The  butter  is 
made  new  every  day,  and  is  never  salted,  each  one  doing 
that  to  his  own  taste.  1  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  look 
of  astonishment  on  the  waiter's  face,  when  in  answer  to  his 


24  LETTERS. 

question,  what  drink  I  would  take  for  my  breakfast,  I  told 
him  **  cold  water."  1  do  not  doubt  he  thought  I  was  a 
savage  from  some  far  off  isle  in  the  ocean.  A  great  drink 
among  the  Frenchmen  is  sugar  and  water.  At  all  hours  of 
the  day  you  will  see  them  enter  the  cafes  and  call  for  *'  eau 
Sucre."  A  glass  of  water  is  handed  them,  and  a  few  lumps 
of  sugar ;  they  sweeten  the  water  to  their  taste,  and  then 
deliberately  put  the  remaining  pieces  in  their  pocket. 
Economical,  is'nt  it?  Each  cafe  has  a  marble  counter, 
behind  which  sits  the  mistress  of  ceremonies,  sometimes 
young,  sometimes  old,  sometimes  pretty,  sometimes  homely. 
From  her  the  waiters  take  their  orders,  and  to  her  carry  all 
the  monies.  Almost  all  these  cafes  have  the  papers  of  the 
day,  so  we  have  an  opportunity  to  get  the  news  with  our 
breakfast.  Galignani's  paper  is  in  great  demand,  as  it  is 
printed  in  English  and  has  the  English  and  American  news. 
But  it  is  time  for  me  to  draw  this  long  letter  to  a  close.  I 
have  given  to  you,  in  a  desultory  manner,  such  little  items  of 
information  as  I  have  here  and  there  picked  up.  I  assure  you, 
one  has  to  keep  his  eyes  wide  open  and  his  ears  too,  for  that 
matter.  I  find  my  little  smattering  of  French  does  me  some 
good,  though  thus  far  I  have  not  found  so  much  use  for  it 
as  I  shall  hereafter,  when  I  am  away  from  those  who  speak 
English.  But  if  I  do  not  stop  soon,  you  will  think  I  have 
the  bump  of  continuance  largely  developed,  so  good-bye. 


Saturday,  April  27th. 
My  dear  : 

Three  days  have  passed  since  I  wrote  to  you,  and  in  those 

three  days  I  have  seen  so  much,  that  my  poor   head,   never 

one  of  the  strongest,  is  almost  bewildered,     I  have  intended 

every  evening  to  write  to  you,  but  each  succeeding  one  has 

found  me  so  utterly  fatigued,  that  after  I  have  noted  the 


LETTERS.  25 

events  of  the  day  in  my  journal,  I  really  have  had  no  strength 
to  write  another  word. 

On  Thursday  morning,  after  breakfast,  we  started  on  our 
journey  around  the  city.  Now  think  not  from  this,  that  it 
was  in  the  "  fresh,  young  morning"  we  commenced  the 
duties  of  the  day.  No ;  we  do  not  practise  the  primitive 
habits  of  our  forefathers  who  rose  before  the  sun,  and  took 
their  breakfast  ere  his  first  rays  kissed  the  dews  from  off  the 
flowers.  We  breakfast  at  ten  o'clock,  and  find  it  the  most 
convenient  hour  as  we  dine  so  late.  Besides,  the  palaces, 
museums,  &&c.,  are  not  open  till  half  past  ten  or  eleven,  so 
we  should  gain  nothing  by  being  out  earlier.  You  say, 
"  breakfast  at  ten  !  Pray,  may  I  ask,  what  time  do  you  get 
up  ?  "     Ah  !  that 's  a  secret. 

But  to  our  task.  We  spent  two  or  three  hours  on  Thurs- 
day morning  at  the  picture  gallery  in  the  Louvre.  Now  do 
not  think  that  I  am  going  to  trouble  you  with  a  long  descrip- 
tion of  this  palace.  No!  for  that  you  must  look  into  some 
of  the  guide  books  of  the  day.  Suffice  it  to  say,  this  gallery 
is  in  the  second  story  of  the  palace,  and  runs  through  the 
whole  length  of  this  immense  building.  It  is  divided  into 
many  rooms,  and  the  pictures  line  the  rooms  on  both  sides. 
There  are  more  than  two  thousand  pictures,  and  my  eyes 
ached  before  I  had  seen  the  twentieth  part  of  them.  They 
are  mostly  placed  there  for  exhibition,  and  there  are  at  pre- 
sent none  in  the  gallery  that  have  been  there  more  than 
three  years.  I  speak,  of  course,  of  the  modern  paintings. 
After  spending  as  much  time  as  we  could  spare  in  looking 
at  the  pictures,  we  went  into  another  gallery,  where  were  all 
kinds  of  curiosities  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe.  Of  these 
I  can  give  you  no  account  whatever.  The  ceilings  of  all 
the  rooms  we  visited  were  beautifully  painted,  and  the  walls 
of  some  of  them  were  of  marble,  with  mirrors  reaching  from 
the  floor  to  the  ceiling.  We  also  went  into  the  gallery  of 
old  paintings.  Can  you  credit  me,  when  I  tell  you  I  was 
disappointed  in  these  ?  Am  I  not  unfashionable?  for,  do 
3 


26  LETTERS. 

not  all  tourists  instantaneously  become  imbued  with  a  pas- 
sion for  the  old  masters?  However,  when  I  have  seen  more 
of  them,  I  may  alter  my  mind  on  the  subject. 

After  leavino-  the  Louvre,  we  traversed  several  streets, 
crossed  the  Seine  by  a  fine  bridge,  and  walked,  I  know  not 
how  far,  but  far  enough  to  completely  tire  me,  till  we  reached 
the  "  Museum  of  the  Artillery."  This  is  a  large  palace, 
built  around  a  court.  There  are  four  galleries,  each  one 
occupying  one  side  of  the  building.  Here  were  complete 
suits  of  armor  of  various  ages;  helmets,  shields,  casques 
and  breastplates,  in  great  numbers;  cannons,  guns,  and 
swords ;  battle-axes,  scimitars,  and  arrows,  and  all  those 
implements  that  make  war  so  terrible  and  destructive. 

On  our  return  home,  we  stopped  at  the  "  Hotel  des  Inva- 
lides,"  or  retreat  for  disabled  soldiers.  This  is  an  immense 
building,  six  hundred  and  twelve  feet  long,  and  four  stories 
hio-h.  It  was  erected  by  Louis  XIV.,  and  will  accommodate 
seven  thousand  persons  ;  at  present  there  are  but  three  thou- 
sand inmates.  All  who  are  disabled  by  their  wounds,  and 
all  who  have  served  thirty  years,  are  entitled  to  admission, 
and  to  spend  the  rest  of  their  days  there.  They  are 
boarded,  lodged,  and  clothed.  They  have  so  much  allowed 
them  a  day,  and  if  they  do  not  choose  to  take  up  all  their 
allowance,  they  can  receive  an  equivalent  for  it  in  money. 
If  one  has  lost  both  of  his  legs,  he  can  demand  the  money  his 
shoes  would  cost.  So  you  see  he  may  have  some  consola- 
tion even  in  the  loss  of  his  limbs.  All  officers  above  the 
rank  of  captain  can  take  their  meals  in  their  rooms ;  the 
others  eat  in  messes.  In  the  garden  we  saw  many  old  sol- 
diers, some  sitting,  some  walking  about ;  they  all  looked 
healthy  and  happy.  Doubtless  some  were  telling  over  the 
history  of  their  campaigns. 

In  the  rear  of  the  "  Hotel"  is  the  church.  It  was  being 
repaired,  so  we  could  not  tell  what  kind  of  a  building  it  was. 
In  fact  we  did  not  go  to  see  it  for  its  architectural  beauties; 
it  had  a  deeper  interest  for  us,  for  there  repose  the  remains 


LETTERS.  27 

of  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  The  chapel,  in  which  is  his  tomb, 
is  beneath  the  dome.  Around  the  entrance  to  it,  are  hang- 
ings of  purple  velvet.  An  iron-grated  door  leads  to  the 
chapel,  through  the  bars  of  which  we  were  obliged  to  look. 
Over  the  tomb  and  around  the  chapel,  wave  many  banners 
taken  in  battle.  The  walls  are  hung  with  crimson  velvet, 
on  which,  in  many  places,  are  embroidered  in  gold  his  coat 
of  arms,  with  the  letter  N.  in  the  centre.  His  tomb  is  of 
marble,  on  the  top  of  which  lies  his  crown.  A  strange  sort 
of  awe  pervaded  our  minds,  and  we  felt  subdued  as  in  the  pre- 
sence of  a  master-spirit.  We  spoke  in  whispered  tones,  as 
though  we  were  in  the  very  chamber  of  mourning,  with  the 
dead  before  us.  Once  I  spoke  aloud,  and  so  hushed  was 
every  thing  around,  though  there  was  a  crowd  in  the  church, 
that  I  was  actually  startled  by  the  sound  of  my  own  voice. 

Yesterday  morning  we  visited  the  Royal  Library.  The 
outside  of  this  building  looks  like  an  old  prison.  It  was 
formerly  a  palace,  and  like  all  other  houses  in  Paris,  whether 
public  or  private,  is  built  around  a  court.  There  are  nine 
hundred  thousand  volumes  in  this  library.  The  books  are  in 
cases,  having  a  front  of  iron  net-work,  so  that  no  book  can 
be  touched  without  the  consent  of  the  Librarian.  One  room, 
however,  in  which  is  a  large  collection  of  books,  is  set  apart; 
any  one  can  go  there  and  spend  several  hours  a  day,  by  get- 
ting permission  from  the  proper  authorities.  Adjoining  the 
principal  gallery  is  one  of  medals  and  antiques.  This  in- 
terested us  much,  though  I  should  fail  in  attempting  to  give 
you  even  the  faintest  idea  of  so  vast  a  collection. 

In  the  manuscript  library,  there  are  about  eighty  thousand 
volumes.  Here  we  saw  some  curious  specimens  of  antiquity 
in  the  manuscript  line,  before  the  art  of  book-making  had 
reached  its  perfection.  Among  these  was  a  book  written  in 
the  fourth  or  fifth  century ;  it  was  in  Latin,  on  dark  purple 
parchment,  in  letters  of  gold.  There  were  also  letters  of 
Henry  IV.,  Francis  I.,  Louis  XIV.,  Madame  de  Maintenon, 
Voltaire,  Racine,  Corneille,  Bossuet,  and  the  manuscript  of 


•28  LETTERS. 

Telemachus,  written  in  a  fine,  clear  hand  (in  which  I  thought 
I  could  trace  Fenelon's  own  pure  mind),  and  many  other 
things,  too  numerous  to  be  mentioned.  There  are  about  one 
million  six  hundred  thousand  engravings  in  this  library  ;  they 
are  not  seen,  except  by  artists  and  those  who  obtain  previous 
permission.  The  room  was  filled  with  those  engaged  in 
copying  them. 

We  then  took  a  carriage,  and  rode  to  Pere  la  Chaise. 
Who  has  not  heard  of  this  beautiful  cemetery  ?  So  gener- 
ally is  it  known,  that  it  may  appear  a  work  of  supereroga- 
tion to  enter  into  any  details  respecting  it ;  but  I  will  take  it 
for  granted,  that  for  the  moment,  they  have  slipped  from 
your  mind,  so  I  will  jog  your  memory  a  little. 

In  the  fourteenth  century,  a  rich  grocer,  named  Regnault, 
built,  on  this  very  site,  a  magnificent  house,  which  the  peo- 
ple called  "  Regnault's  folly."  After  his  death,  a  female 
devotee  bought  it  and  presented  it  to  the  Jesuits.  In  the 
time  of  Louis  XIV.  it  was  called  "  Mont  Louis."  That 
monarch,  being  much  attached  to  his  confessor,  Pere  la 
Chaise,  appointed  him,  in  1765,  superior  of  this  community, 
and  this  house  then  became  the  centre  of  Jesuitical  power 
in  France.  The  building  was  enlarged  and  the  grounds  im- 
proved, but  on  the  suppression  of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  Mont 
Louis  was  sold.  After  passing  through  several  hands,  it  was 
purchased  by  M.  Frochet,  prefect  of  the  Seine,  to  be  con- 
verted into  a  cemetery.  It  now  covers  about  one  hundred 
acres  of  land.  The  house  was  taken  down,  and  a  small 
chapel  was  erected,  where  the  funeral  service  is  performed. 
The  gateway  is  adorned  with  funereal  ornaments,  and  Latin 
inscriptions  from  the  Bible.  Leading  from  the  gate  is  a 
wide  avenue,  from  which  diverge  paths  in  every  direction. 
The  trees  are  beautiful,  and  the  monuments  of  various  forms 
and  designs ;  some  are  merely  a  slab  of  marble,  and  others 
in  the  form  of  temples,  chapels,  pyramids,  obelisks,  columns, 
altars,  urns,  &lc.  Some  of  them  are  exquisitely  beautiful ; 
most  of  them  are  surmounted  by  a  cross.     Those  in  the  form 


LETTERS.  29 

of  a  temple  have  an  altar  inside,  on  which  were  a  crucifix, 
vases  of  flowers,  and  large  silver  candlesticks,  in  many  of 
which  candles  were  burning.  There  were  chairs,  too,  near 
the  altars,  where  the  bereaved  go  and  sit,  and  muse  and 
weep  over  the  departed  and  loved  ones.  In  many  of  these 
little  temples,  there  was  a  window  of  stained  glass,  which 
threw  a  rich  light  over  the  polished  marble.  Almost  all  the 
graves  had  garlands  of  flowers  thrown  around  them.  Flow- 
ers grow  all  around ;  no  one  ever  seems  to  molest  them.  Is 
it  not  a  beautiful  custom,  thus  to  invest  the  home  of  the  dead 
with  so  much  light  and  loveliness  ?  How  much  more  de- 
lightful, than  to  have  our  friends  repose  in  some  gloomy 
place,  where  the  sun  scarcely  ever  seems  to  smile  ! 

As  we  came  out,  we  met  a  procession.  Two  carriages 
came  first,  in  which  were  priests  in  their  black  and  white 
robes.  The  carriages  were  hung  with  black,  and  large 
mourning  plumes  nodded  upon  the  horses'  heads.  Then 
came  the  hearse,  the  sides  of  which  were  looped  up,  so  that 
we  could  plainly  see  the  coffin.  It  was  covered  with  a  white 
pall,  on  which  lay  the  sword  and  arms  of  the  deceased. 
Then  came  a  number  of  men,  dressed  in  the  habiliments  of 
mourning,  who,  I  supposed,  were  friends  of  the  departed, 
though  they  seemed  any  thing  but  mourners.  A  party  of 
soldiers  were  drawn  up  at  the  gateway,  and  were  firing  sa- 
lutes as  the  funeral  train  passed  in,  which  so  frightened  the 
horses  attached  to  one  of  the  carriages,  that  some  of  the 
priests  had  to  get  out  and  walk.  In  order  that  they  might 
not  be  behindhand,  they  darted  through  the  shrubbery, 
jumped  over  the  bushes,  cut  by  the  trees,  and  so  got  up  with 
the  hearse,  laughing,  and  apparently  as  much  pleased  as 
though  they  had  performed  some  great  feat.  Now  this  con- 
duct seemed  neither  clerical  nor  reverential. 

As  we  came  back,  we  stopped  at  one  of  the  large  slaughter- 
houses erected  by  the  city.      There  are  five  of  them  at  dif- 
ferent extremities  of  the  city,   as  no   animals  are  allowed  to 
3* 


00  LETTERS. 

be  driven  through  the  streets ;  all  must  be  carried  to  these 
places  and  killed.     They  are  substantial  stone  buildings. 

We  also  stopped  on  the  site  of  the  Bastille,  which  was 
destroyed  in  1790,  during  the  time  of  the  Revolution.  By 
order  of  Napoleon,  a  fountain  was  commenced  here.  The 
design  was  an  immense  elephant  of  bronze,  from  the  trunk 
of  which  the  water  was  to  issue.  This  design  was  never 
carried  into  execution;  the  plaster  model  of  the  elephant 
stands  near,  to  attest  the  grandeur  of  the  conception.  A 
monument  has  been  erected  on  the  foundation  of  the  foun- 
tain, to  commemorate  those  who  fell  in  the  Revolution  of 
1830,  whose  names  are  inscribed  on  the  column. 

But  the  splendor  oRParis  is  seen  the  most  in  the  evenings. 
Then  the  shops  are  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  the  whole 
population  seems  to  be  out  of  doors.  It  is  like  a  fairy  scene 
to  be  on  the  Boulevards,  and  see  the  people  walking  about, 
and  sitting  under  the  trees,  sipping  their  ices. 

This  morning  we  rode  to  the  Gobelins,  or  Royal  manu- 
factory of  tapestry.  Carriage  hire  is  very  reasonable  here. 
Yesterday  we  with  our  **  valet  de  place  "  rode  three  miles  in 
a  nice  carriage,  with  two  horses,  for  two  francs  (about  thirty- 
eight  cents  of  our  money),  and  to-day  we  hired  one  by  the 
hour,  which  is  equally  cheap.  When  we  got  to  the  Gobelins 
we  found  they  would  not  be  opened  for  spectators  under  a 
half  hour,  so,  as  we  lose  no  time  in  waiting,  we  went  to  the 
"Garden  of  Plants."  This  place  is  not  altogether  what  you 
would  suppose  from  its  name,  being  occupied  by  all  species 
of  the  animal  kingdom,  as  well  as  the  vegetable  world.  Of 
the  ''plants"  I  shall  say  nothing,  for  the  best  of  all  reasons, 
that  I  have  nothing  to  say,  as  we  examined  only  that  part  of 
the  garden  devoted  to  the  animals.  These  are  collected  from 
all  parts  of  the  world.  Each  species  has  a  separate  en- 
closure, within  which  is  a  covered  recess  for  them  to  go  into 
at  night,  or  in  stormy  weather.  The  more  ferocious  kinds 
are  kept  in  pits,  which  are  walled  up  perpendicularly,  and 
are  left  open,  so  that  we  could  look  down  upon  them.    There 


LETTERS.  31 

is  a  large  enclosure  for  the  birds,  surrounded  by  a  network 
of  fine  wire,  giving  them  free  scope  to  walk,  hop,  or  fly. 
Among  them  I  noticed  peacocks,  some  clear  white,  others 
with  splendid  plumage,  beautiful  pheasants,  spotted  with 
blue,  and  scarlet,  and  yellow,  and  birds  of  every  clime  and 
every  hue  ;  some  sweetly  singing,  others  flying  about  and 
beating  their  wiry  caging,  as  though  struggling  to  be 
free. 

Our  half  hour  having  expired,  we  went  back  to  the  Gobe- 
lins, so  called  from  men  of  that  name,  who  in  the  fifteenth 
century  were  famous  in  dyeing  wools.  Under  Louis  XIV. 
the  establishment  was  bought  and  converted  into  a  royal 
manufactory.  Here  are  most  beautiful  specimens  of  art, 
exceeding  in  vividness  and  richness  of  coloring  any  painting 
I  ever  saw.  The  workman  is  seated  behind  his  frame,  with 
his  model,  a  painting,  back  of  him,  to  which  he  constantly 
turns.  All  the  ends  being  fastened  on  the  wrong  side,  it  is 
necessary  for  him  to  be  behind  the  frame  ;  the  front  presents 
an  even  surface.  There  are  several  different  designs ;  some, 
flowers  for  the  bordering  of  walls,  some,  full-length  portraits, 
others,  Scripture  scenes,  such  as  Christ  giving  the  keys  of 
Heaven  to  St.  Peter,  the  death  of  Ananias,  Paul  preaching 
at  Athens,  and  some  historical  and  mythological  pieces. 
The  execution  of  these  is  most  perfect.  The  pieces  are  of 
a  large  size,  sufficient  to  reach  from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor 
of  a  room.  It  is  very  slow  and  expensive  work,  a  piece  not 
being  completed  in  less  than  five  or  six  years,  and  costing 
about  eighteen  or  twenty  thousand  francs.  A  full  length 
portrait  of  Louis  Philippe  has  been  commenced  ;  but  little 
has  been  done  as  yet,  although  more  than  a  year  has  been 
consumed  upon  it,  and  it  will  probably  take  three  or  four 
more.  There  is  also  a  portrait  of  the  Queen,  and  of  her 
sons. 

Connected  with  this,  is  the  royal  carpet  manufactory. 
Here  are  the  most  beautiful  carpets  in  the  world ;  they  look 
more  like  pictures  wrought  on  velvet,    than  like   carpets. 


32  LETTERS. 

They  are  very  large,  and  several  years  are  consumed  in  mak- 
ing one.  This  work  is  done  on  the  right  side,  because  the 
surface  of  the  carpet  is  a  little  raised  like  tufted  work  ;  the 
ends  are  nicely  clipped,  the  colors  are  varied,  the  designs 
beautiful,  and  the  finishing  perfect.  They  are  very  expen- 
sive, one  costing  frequently  one  hundred  thousand  francs,  or 
twenty  thousand  dollars.  They  are  never  sold,  but  are  used 
in  the  royal  palaces,  and  sometimes  one  is  presented  by  Louis 
Philippe  to  some  king  or  distinguished  man.  Oh!  but 
did  'nt  I  wish  at  the  moment,  that  I  had  some  claims  upon 
his  notice  ? 

On  our  return,  we  stopped  at  the  Palais  Royal.  This  is 
a  very  large  palace,  built  around  a  court,  which  is  planted 
with  trees,  and  laid  out  in  walks.  In  the  centre  is  a  foun- 
tain, whose  incessant  play  of  waters,  produces  that  pleasant 
humming,  gurgling  sound,  so  delightful  to  the  ear.  This 
court  is  divided  into  two  by  a  splendid  arcade,  the  sides  and 
top  of  which  are  of  glass.  In  the  evening,  when  it  is  lit  up, 
it  has  a  most  brilliant  appearance.  Here  are  some  of  the 
most  beautiful  shops  in  Paris;  they  are  small,  but  the  arti- 
cles in  them  are  most  tastefully  arranged.  Around  the  whole 
court  runs  an  arched  portico,  sustained  by  pillars.  Here  are 
fashionable  cafes,  toy  and  jewelry  shops,  and  every  thing  is 
seen  that  can  please  the  eye,  or  open  the  purse.  This  forms 
a  great  promenade  in  a  wet  day,  as  one  is  quite  secluded 
from  the  rain.  Around  the  smaller  court,  are  the  rooms  for- 
merly occupied  by  the  royal  family.  They  are  approached 
by  a  magnificent  flight  of  stairs,  with  carved  iron  railings. 
There  are  several  rooms  open  for  visitors,  the  furniture  of 
which  is  most  splendid.  There  are  no  carpets,  but  the  floors 
are  of  polished  oak,  in  small  diamond  panes.  In  each  room 
there  is  a  large  chandelier,  besides  stands  for  candles  on  the 
mantel-pieces  and  around  the  walls.  In  some  of  the  rooms, 
the  walls  are  of  marble;  in  others  they  are  covered  on  one 
side  with  beautiful  paintings,  and  on  the  other  with  immense 
mirrors,  and  in  others  still  they  are  hung  with  flowered  satin 


LETTERS.  33 

or  damask  of  different  colors,  the  chairs  and  sofas  being  cov- 
ered with  the  same  material  as  the  walls.  The  throne  room 
is  the  richest  of  all ;  its  walls  are  hung  with  crimson  velvet, 
and  the  chairs  covered  with  the  same.  The  throne  is  raised 
two  steps  from  the  floor,  and  is  also  covered  with  red  velvet ; 
over  it  is  a  canopy  of  the  same  material.  The  chair  of  state 
is  covered  with  crimson  velvet,  and  has  the  crown  embroider- 
ed in  gold  on  the  cushion  and  the  back.  All  the  other  chairs 
are  embroidered  with  gold.  I  wanted  to  sit  in  the  chair  of 
state,  that,  republican  as  I  am,  I  might  say  I  had  for  once  sat 
on  the  throne  of  a  king,  but  the  crusty  old  guide  would  not 
let  me.  Like  Lucy's  lamb  in  the  story  book,  "  that  was 
against  the  rule,"  though  doubtless  he  was  quite  unac- 
quainted with  that  poetic  effusion.  On  either  side  of  the 
throne  is  a  magnificent  candelabra.  In  every  room  is  a 
clock,  each  differing  from  the  other  in  design  and  workman- 
ship. The  floor  and  walls  of  the  dining-room  are  of  beau- 
tiful colored  marble.  Cool,  I  should  imagine.  Servants  in 
royal  livery  were  in  every  room.  This  palace  is  at  present 
occupied  only  when  some  foreign  prince  visits  Paris,  when 
it  is  assigned  to  him  as  a  place  of  residence. 

And  so  end  our  '*  three  days "  in  Paris.  Have  we  not 
been  expeditious  in  accomplishing  thus  much  1  Wherever  I 
go,  it  is  with  pencil  and  paper  in  hand,  that  I  may  instantly 
note  down  any  thing  that  strikes  my  attention.  But  the 
guides  so  hurry  you  about,  that  you  have  scarcely  time  to 
give  a  look  at  one  thing,  before  they  call  your  attention  to 
another.  But  what  a  long  letter !  Really  I  must  fancy  it  is 
as  pleasant  for  you  to  read  these  letters  of  mine,  as  it  is  for 
me  to  see  the  objects  which  are  described  in  them.  You 
will  probably  not  hear  from  me  again  till  we  are  some  ways 
advanced  towards  the  sunny  south.  Oh  !  by  the  way,  I  must 
not  forget  to  tell  you  that  we  are  to  have  a  companion  in  our 
future  travels.     When  we   came  home  to-day,  we  found  on 

our  table  the  card  of  a  Mr.  D ,  of  Boston.     While  we 

were  conjecturing  who  it  could  be,  the  servant  announced 


34  LETTERS. 

the  very  gentleman.  He  brought  us  a  note  of  introduction 
from  the  American  consul,  and  as  soon  as  the  first  compli- 
ments were  over,  turned  to  me  with  a  comical  expression, 
and  said,  "  I  think  I  '11  count  those  stairs  as  I  go  down."  I 
laughed,  and  told  him  I  would  spare  him  the  trouble,  and  so 
gave  him  the  number.  He  said  he  had  but  eighty  where  he 
staid,  and  thought  that  was  quite  enough,  but  to  think  of 
adding  forty  more,  was  really  too  much.  His  object  in  call- 
ing was  to  see  what  day  we  were  to  start  for  Italy,  that  he 
might  accompany  us,  as  he  is  alone,  and  thought  it  would  be 
pleasanter  to  have  some  companions.  He  had  his  passport 
signed  for  Tuesday,  but  thought  he  would  be  able  to  get  it 
changed  in  season  to  go  with  us  on  Monday,  and  soon  after 
he  sent  word  to  us  that  he  had  engaged  a  seat  in  the  Dili- 
gence, in  which  we  are  to  go.  But,  "  now  indeed,  good 
night !  " 


Paris,  April  26. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

When  I  closed  my  letter  on  Saturday  evening,  I  little 
thought  of  writing  you  again  so  soon,  but  as  we  do  not  leave 
here  till  two  o'clock  this  afternoon,  I  have  a  little  time  to 
spare ;  in  fact,  1  can  do  nothing  else,  as  every  thing  is  packed 
up  excepting  my  writing  materials,  which  I  always  have  at 
hand. 

I  shall  now  tell  you  of  our  Sunday  in  Paris.  We  went  in 
the  morning  to  the  cathedral  church  of  Notre  Dame.  I  shall 
not  enter  into  the  details  of  its  architecture,  but  shall  simply 
write  about  those  things  that  particularly  took  my  attention. 
It  is  an  ancient  looking  edifice,  with  two  square  towers  in 
front,  and  is  built  in  the  form  of  a  cross ;  and  here  I  will 
merely  say  for  your  edification,  (for  you  may  be  laboring 
under  the  same  mistake  that  I  have  been,)  that  the  term 


LETTERS.  35 

"  form  of  the  cross,"  by  no  means  applies  to  the  exterior  of 
the  building ;  on  the  contrary,  that  may  look  like  a  square, 
a  parallelogram,  or  in  fact  any  thing  but  a  cross,  but  it  is  the 
interior  which  is  in  this  form. 

The  ceiling  of  this  church  is  arched,  and  is  supported  by 
pillars,  four  feet  in  diameter,  and  nearly  one  hundred  in 
height.  That  which  lies  under  the  loftiest  part  of  the  ceil- 
ing, lengthwise  between  the  pillars,  or,  in  other  words,  that 
which  forms  the  upright  part  of  the  cross,  is  called  the  nave ; 
the  head  of  the  cross  forms  the  choir,  within  which  is  the 
chancel,  and  the  arms  of  the  cross  are  called  the  tran- 
septs. 

I  give  you  these  technical  definitions,  because,  in  the 
course  of  our  journey,  we  shall  see  many  churches,  and  this 
little  explanation  will  answer  once  for  all.  Along  the  side 
aisles  are  many  little  chapels,  separated  from  the  body  of  the 
church,  by  a  low  iron  railing  ;  each  chapel  has  its  own  altar, 
dedicated  to  some  particular  saint. 

As  you  enter  the  arched  doorway  of  Notre  Dame,  and  lock 
up  through  the  church,  the  perspective  is  very  grand.  No- 
thing can  be  more  imposing  than  its  style  of  architecture, 
with  its  lengthened  aisles,  its  massive  pillars,  its  vaulted  ceil- 
ing and  its  many  tinted  rays  of  light,  which  come  streaming 
in  through  the  richly  painted  glass.  No  church  in  France 
is  richer  in  historical  associations  than  this,  for  within  its 
consecrated  walls,  have  occurred  many  soul-stirring  events. 
Here  have  been  solemnized  marriages,  on  which  depended 
the  fate  of  nations  ;  here  have  been  baptized  infants,  in 
whose  veins  flowed  the  blood  of  a  long  line  of  princes,  and 
here,  too,  have  been  crowned  those  monarchs,  whose  eventful 
reigns  have  thrown  so  much  of  light  and  shade,  of  glory  and 
shame  over  France. 

The  streets  of  Paris  presented  a  lively  scene  yesterday. 
The  shops  and  cafes  were  open ;  crowds  of  people  in  their 
holiday  attire  were  walking  about ;  there  was  nothing  to  re- 
mind one  of  the  holy  Sabbath,  but  every  thing  bore  rather 


LETTERS. 


the  appearance  of  a  festal  day,  and  already  we  tire  of  its 
noise  and  bustle,  and  sigh  for  a  peaceful  Sabbath  in  our  own 
land.  But  it  is  time  for  us  to  go  to  the  Diligence  office;  so 
now  adieu.  Yours  ever. 


Lyons,  April  28lh. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Here  we  are  in  this  dirtiest  of  dirty  towns ;  for  of  all  nasty, 
dusty  places  I  was  ever  in,  I  think  Lyons  exceeds  all.  We 
arrived  here  this  afternoon  about  two  o'clock,  thus  being  two 
days  and  two  nights  on  the  way,  and  yet  I  did  not  find  the 
ride  so  very  tiresome.  The  road  was  good,  and  we  rattled 
along  at  the  rate  of  eight  or  nine  miles  an  hour,  stopping 
occasionally  to  get  refreshments,  which  were  by  no  means  of 
the  choicest  or  most  inviting  kind.  Not  more  than  five  or 
ten  minutes  were  allowed  for  dinner,  and  then  three  or  four 
francs  were  charged  us,  as  though  we  had  made  a  full 
meal. 

The  country  was  pleasant  and  in  a  good  state  of  cultiva- 
tion. As  we  passed  along,  we  saw  vineyards  in  every  direc- 
tion, covering  the  sunny  plains  and  sloping  hills.  Now  I 
know  you  will  think  I  was  rather  "  green,"  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  always  thought  the  vine  here  was  trained  to  grow  over 
a  sort  of  trellis  work,  as  with  us,  but  very  different  was  the 
reality  from  my  supposition.  The  vines  are  planted  in  rows, 
at  regular  intervals  of  four  or  five  feet,  and  they  are  trained 
to  run  upon  stakes  placed  upright  in  the  ground.  Although 
these  vineyards,  at  this  early  season,  presented  a  barren  ap- 
pearance, yet  they  must  have  a  beautiful  aspect  when  covered 
with  bright  green  leaves  and  clustering  grapes. 

We  passed  through  many  villages,  which,  for  the  most 
part,  presented  a  wretched,  squalid  appearance.  The  houses 
were  of  stone,  and  bore  the   marks  of  antiquity  and  great 


LETTERS.  37 

strength,  being  probably  built  at  the  period  when  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  make  every  house  a  fortress.  All  these  villages 
were  surrounded  by  strong  walls.  The  men  were  loitering 
about  with  pipes  in  their  mouths,  apparently  having  nothing 
to  do,  but  to  stare  at  us  as  we  passed  ;  the  women  were  sitting 
by  the  doors  of  their  houses,  sometimes  knitting  or  sewing, 
and  sometimes  spinning. 

We  were  molested  by  beggars  all  along  the  road.  Every 
time  we  stopped,  every  hill  we  ascended,  we  were  over- 
whelmed by  entreaties  for  charity.  We  were  besought  "  by 
the  love  of  Heaven,"  "  by  the  love  of  our  own  souls,"  "  by 
a  wish  to  save  them  from  starving,"  to  give,  give.  At  one 
time,  as  we  were  going  up  a  steep  hill,  a  little  boy  ran  along 
by  the  side  of  the  Diligence,  cutting  up  all  kinds  of  capers 
and  gambols  to  gain  attention,  and,  what  was  of  more  conse- 
quence to  him,  money.  I  was  lying  back  on  my  seat,  but 
hearing  our  fellow  passengers  laugh  at  some  of  his  antics,  I 
raised  my  head  to  see  what  was  going  on.  No  sooner  did 
the  little  fellow  see  me,  than  instantly  his  cap  was  up  in  the 
air,  and  he  shouted,  "  long  live  the  beautiful  lady."  Now 
as  you  well  know,  I  have  ever  been  called  any  thing  but 
beautiful,  so  I  thought  the  boy's  discernment  was  to  be  priz- 
ed, and  I  handed  him  out  a  sous,  which  threw  him  into  a 
perfect  ecstasy  of  delight,  and  the  last  words  I  heard  were 
praises  of  "  the  beautiful  lady." 

This  morningr,  at  Chalons,  we  left  the  Diligence,  and  took 
a  steamboat  down  the  Saone.  The  banks  of  the  river  are 
low  but  very  beautiful,  though  now  the  country  is  suffering 
from  a  late  inundation,  which  carried  off  many  houses,  and 
left  others  standing  in  a  ruined  state.  There  were  several 
priests  on  board,  with  one  of  whom  I  had  quite  a  conversa- 
tion. It  was  the  first  time  I  had  dared  to  say  much  to  any 
one  in  French,  but  I  found  myself  so  easily  understood,  that 
the  strings  of  my  tongue  were  at  once  unloosed,  ("  little  need 
of  that,"  say  you,)  arid  I  have  since  rattled  on  with  any  one 
and  every  one,  without  regard  to  grammar  or  dictionary. 
4 


do  LETTERS. 

But  the  Romish  priest,  for  his  first  question,  asked  me  if  I 
was  a  Catholic,  and  when  he  heard  my  answer,  he  edged  off 
a  little,  but  I  was  not  for  letting  him  go  so  easily ;  so  I 
began  to  tell  him  about  many  things  in  my  own  country, 
which  pleased  him  much.  Still  he  returned  to  the  subject 
of  my  faith,  and  when  he  heard  I  was  going  to  Rome,  he 
said,  *'  Ah !  when  you  have  been  to  Rome,  and  seen  the 
Pope,  and  received  his  blessing,  you  will  return  a  good  Ca- 
tholic ;  "  so  dear  friends,  look  out. 

After  taking  an  early  dinner  here,  we  took  a  carriage  and 
rode  round  to  see  the  city.  We  visited  the  Museum,  but  I 
shall  not  inflict  upon  you  a  description  of  the  things  we  there 
saw,  the  altars,  sacrificial  vases,  ancient  lamps,  house- 
hold gods,  and  weapons  of  warfare,  found  in  the  old  city 
Lugdunum,  on  whose  site  now  stands  the  present  town. 

Lyons  is  finely  situated  on  the  two  rivers,  Saone  and 
Rhone,  near  their  junction.  It  is  now  principally  celebrated 
for  its  manufacture  of  silks.  The  country  around  Lyons  is 
exceedingly  mountainous.  High  hills  overshadow  the  banks 
of  the  rivers ;  lofty  mountains  raise  their  snow-capped  sum- 
mits in  the  distance.  On  one  of  the  hills  is  a  telegraph, 
which  communicates  with  the  south  of  France  on  the  one 
side,  and  with  Paris  on  the  other. 

In  our  rides  we  passed  the  '*  Hotel  de  Ville,"  (answering 
to  our  apellation,  "town-house,")  and  the  **  Hotel  Dieu," 
said  to  be  one  of  the  best  hospitals  in  France,  where  an  or- 
der of  nuns,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  in  number,  perform 
the  office  of  nurses. 

We  start  early  to-morrow  morning  for  Avignon,  and  as  to- 
night I  anticipate  the  luxury  of  a  bed,  which  for  two  nights 
has  been  denied  me,  you  will  pardon  me  for  making  this  let- 
ter a  short  one ;  so,  good  night. 


LETTERS. 


Avignon,  Saturday,  May  1st. 
My  dearest  P.  : 

Two  days  only  have  elapsed  since  I  sent  off  my  last  letter, 
and  yet,  behold  another  already  begun.  Will  you  not  give  me 
the  credit  of  being  a  voluminous  correspondent  ?  You  will 
perceive  I  take  up  no  room  with  compliments  or  sentiment, 
but  proceed  at  once  to  tell  you  about  "  the  things  which  I 
saw,"  so  think  me  not  abrupt,  if  I  begin  directly  with  the 
subject-matter  of  my  letters. 

We  left  Lyons  about  half  past  four  Thursday  morning,  in  a 
steamer  for  this  city.  It  is  a  delightful  sail  down  the  Rhone. 
The  day  was  charming,  and  the  country  around  us  beautiful. 
The  boat  was  full  of  passengers,  and  we  glided  swiftly  along 
on  our  destined  way.  This  river  runs  with  an  amazing  ra- 
pidity, having  a  current  of  nearly  twelve  miles  an  hour. 

Mountains  and  hills  encompassed  us  on  either  side.  On 
many  a  precipitous  crag  were  perched  ancient  castles,  whose 
walls,  even  now,  after  the  lapse  of  ages,  seem  to  defy  the 
elements.  Around  them  were  grouped  the  cottages  of  the 
serfs,  and  all  were  surrounded  by  a  massive  wall.  These, 
undoubtedly,  were  some  of  those  old  feudal  castles,  whose 
descriptions  have  so  often  met  our  eyes  in  the  histories  and 
romances  of  the  middle  ages.  Often  a  picturesque  little 
church  was  seen,  covered  with  time-honored  moss,  and  on 
many  elevated  spots,  crosses  were  visible,  seeming  almost  to 
touch  the  heavens  to  which  they  pointed. 

There  are  many  bridges  over  the  Rhone ;  some  are  sus- 
pension, and  others  are  of  stone,  whose  solid  piers  and  arches 
would  seem  to  defy  the  force  of  this  mighty  current,  and  yet 
we  occasionally  passed  one  whose  ruins  showed  that  even 
such  strength  could  not  resist  the  rushing  waters.  The  boat 
easily  passed  under  these  bridges,  by  just  lowering  the  pipe, 
so  that  it  inclined  horizontally  to  the  deck.  In  many  places 
a  rope  was  extended  across  the  river,  about  the  height  of  the 
bridges,  so  that  those  passing  over  in  boats,  were  kept  from 


40  LETTERS. 

being  carried  down  the  stream,  by  the  use  of  boat-hooks,  with 
which  they  hold  on  to  the  ropes.  As  we  passed  under  a  bridge 
near  Valence,  another  boat  came  along.  While  I  was  sitting 
on  deck,  and  thinking  how  finely  the  boats  looked  going  along 
so  rapidly,  J.  ran  to  me,  caught  hold  of  me,  and  said,  "run 
to  the  other  side  of  the  boat,  quick."  I  started  up,  thinking 
there  was  some  fine  view  to  be  seen,  but  before  I  could  turn 
round,  the  truth  flashed  upon  me,  that  the  other  boat  was 
running  into  us.  Twice  the  boats  came  in  collision,  with  a 
force  that  almost  threw  me  off  my  feet;  but,  providentially, 
our  boat  escaped  unhurt,  while  the  other  broke  one  of  her 
wheels.  Thus  have  we  a  renewed  instance  of  the  kind  care 
of  Him  who  never  slumbers  or  sleeps.  Who  can  tell  but  at 
that  very  moment  the  prayers  of  some  dear  ones  at  home, 
were  going  up  for  our  safety  ?  And  He  who  heareth  prayer, 
heard  and  answered,  and  we  were  permitted  unscathed  to  go 
on. 

Before  we  got  to  Avignon  we  passed  under  a  most  beauti- 
ful bridge,  three  thousand  feet  long.  It  is  a  succession  of 
solid  stone  arches,  and  was  built  by  a  community  of  monks, 
in  the  neighborhood,  who  devoted  to  this  purpose  a  large 
sum  of  money  offered  at  the  shrine  "  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  " 
and  is  hence  called  "  Pont  St.  Esprit."  It  was  commenced 
in  1265  and  finished  in  1309. 

Before  I  forget  it,  I  must  tell  you  the  singular  way  in 
which  these  steamboats  are  steered.  Instead  of  a  wheel, 
there  is  a  large  rudder,  at  which  four  or  five  men  constantly 
stand.  Around  the  tiller,  two  ropes  are  fastened,  one  at  the 
right  side  of  the  boat  and  the  other  at  the  left,  and  the  right 
or  left  rope  is  pulled  according  to  the  way  in  which  the  boat 
is  to  go.  Now  a  wheel  with  one  man,  or  sometimes  two, 
would  seem  all-sufficient,  and  would  save  this  immense  deal 
of  labor. 

All  along  the  banks  of  this  river  are  marks  of  the  late  in- 
undation. As  it  is  fed  by  mountain  torrents,  it,  of  course, 
rises  very  rapidly  in  the  spring,  when  the   snows   on  the 


LETTERS.  41 

mountains  begin  to  melt.  Early  last  season,  the  priests  pro- 
claimed to  the  people  that  an  inundation  was  to  take  place, 
and  that  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end.  Business,  labor, 
every  thing  were  suspended  ;  houses  and  lands  were  sold,  and 
the  money  given  to  the  priests.  One  day,  the  wife  of  the 
engineer  of  the  boat  in  which  we  were,  went  to  a  small  town 
to  buy  provisions.  After  she  had  been  gone  about  two  hours, 
she  came  back  in  great  distress,  and  without  making  any 
purchases.  Her  husband  asked  her  what  was  the  matter. 
With  many  sobs  she  told  him  the  world  was  coming  to  an 
end,  for  the  priests  had  said  so.  He  then  asked  her  where 
were  the  provisions.  She  had  none,  she  could  procure  none, 
as  the  meat  shops  were  all  closed.  Where  then  was  her 
money?  She  had  given  it  away  !  for  she  said,  "  of  what  use 
would  the  money  be  if  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end  ? " 
Now  how  strange  it  is,  that,  in  this  enlightened  age,  priests, 
many  of  them  illiterate  men,  should  gain  such  an  ascendancy 
over  the  minds  of  the  people !  Yet  this  is  a  well  authenti- 
cated fact,  and  we  have  like  instances  of  such  influences 
even  in  our  own  country. 

Avignon  is  a  collection  of  ruins  and  ancient  buildincrs. 
In  its  day,  it  doubtless  was  a  great  place,  but  now,  "  Icha- 
bod,"  may  be  written  on  its  walls,  for  its  glory  hath  departed. 
As  soon  as  we  had  brushed  up  a  little,  we  procured  a  guide, 
and  walked  out  to  view  the  wonders  of  the  town.  As  we 
could  not  find  one  who  spoke  English,  I  had  to  make  the 
most  of  my  French,  and  to  be  interpreter  for  all  our  party ; 
as  J.  and  Mr.  D.  speak  French  but  little.  We  went  into 
the  Museum,  where  was  a  collection  that  would  feast  an  an- 
tiquary,—  heads  without  bodies,  bodies  without  heads,  arms 
and  legs  without  bodies,  bodies  without  arms  and  legs,  busts 
of  Roman  emperors,  old  coins,  sacrificial  vases,  urns  in 
which  the  ashes  of  great  men  had  been  deposited,  ancient 
sarcophagi,  mummies,  and  I  can't  tell  what  besides.  We 
saw  also  some  poetry  in  Petrarch's  own  hand,  the  will  of  Louis 
XVI.,  some  leaves  of  ancient  manuscripts,  and  many  beau- 
4* 


42  LETTERS. 

tiful  pictures,  among  which  were  two  portraits  of  Petrarch, 
and  two  of  Laura.  There  were  marks  of  the  late  inunda- 
tion of  the  Rhone  all  about  the  lower  floor  of  this  building, 
the  water  having  come  up  as  high  as  the  windows.  In  the 
court  were  many  roses  in  full  bloom,  though  only  the  29th 
of  April.  Seeing  me  admiring  them,  the  keeper  of  the  Mu- 
seum picked  one  and  gave  me,  remarking  that  the  roses 
there  had  but  little  fragrance,  which  I  found  to  be  the  case. 
He  also  gave  me  a  branch  of  myrtle,  which,  when  rubbed  in 
the  hands,  emits  a  delightful  odor,  and  a  piece  of  the  laurel 
with  which  poets  were  formerly  crowned,  but,  (oh !  what  a 
desecration  !)  it  is  now  only  used  to  give  a  rich  taste  to 
cream. 

We  visited  the  tomb  of  Laura,  which  is  in  a  garden,  where 
once  stood  a  large  church.  This  little  spot,  consecrated  by 
having  been  the  resting  place  of  her  who  is  immortalized  by 
the  poetry  of  Petrarch,  is  surrounded  by  cypress  and  willow 
trees,  which  seem  to  keep  a  close  guard  over  beauty's  sleep. 
A  priest,  with  a  fine,  intelligent  face,  showed  us  around  the 
garden,  which  is  laid  out  in  pretty  style,  though  it  then  was 
suffering  from  the  inundation  of  the  river.  On  my  asking 
him  for  a  piece  of  cypress  that  grew  over  the  tomb  of  Laura, 
he  broke  off  several  sprigs  and  gave  them  to  me.  I  told  him 
I  should  take  them  home  to  my  own  country,  at  which  he 
seemed  much  pleased.  He  also  went  with  us  into  an  ancient 
and  dilapidated  church,  one  part  of  which  is  now  used  as  a 
manufactory  of  velvet,  and  the  other  is  occupied  by  shoe- 
makers. I  asked  the  priest  how  it  happened  that  so  noble  a 
church  was  thus  desecrated.  "Ah!"  said  he,  and  a  deep 
shade  of  melancholy  crossed  his  fine  features,  "  't  was  the 
Revolution  caused  all  this." 

As  we  came  out,  after  Mr.  D.  had  slipped  into  his  hands 
a  piece  of  money,  he  handed  me  a  little  engraving  of  the 
tomb  of  Laura,  saying,  "  Here  is  a  little  gift  for  Madame." 
*'  Madame "  was  profuse  in  her  thanks,  and  told  him  she 
should  carry  it  to  America,  and  tell  her  friends  who  gave  it 


LETTERS.  43 

to  her.  With  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  with  many  bows, 
we  separated. 

We  visited  the  Cathedral,  but  I  shall  not  give  you  any  de- 
scription of  it,  only  saying  that,  like  all  other  things  in  Avig- 
non, it  has  probably  seen  its  best  days.  It  is,  however,  still 
rich  in  paintings  and  old  relics. 

The  streets  of  Avignon  are  narrow  and  dirty,  and  such  a 
set  of  ugly,  barking  dogs,  I  never  before  saw  in  any  one 
place.  The  whole  city  is  surrounded  by  a  high  and  solid 
wall,  which  looks  as  well  able  to  defy  armies  now,  as  it  did 
four  hundred  years  ago. 

Yesterday  we  took  a  most  delightful  ride  to  the  fountain 
of  Vaucluse,  about  fifteen  miles  from  here.  It  is  celebrated 
not  only  for  its  natural  beauties,  but  for  being  the  place 
where  Petrarch  wrote  many  of  his  sonnets  to  Laura.  The 
country  was  enchanting,  and  the  day  lovely.  The  road  was 
bordered  by  trees,  which,  however,  are  kept  so  closely  trim- 
med, as  to  give  them  an  artificial  appearance.  The  haw- 
thorn was  in  full  bloom ;  its  little  white  blossoms,  and  the 
wild  flowers  around,  loaded  the  air  with  fragrance.  Once 
when  we  stopped  to  admire  a  fine  prospect,  our  coachman 
went  to  the  roadside,  and  picked  a  bunch  of  flowers  and 
several  sprigs  of  hawthorn,  and  brought  them  very  modestly 
to  J.,  and  told  him  they  were  for  Madame.  I  tell  you  this 
little  incident,  to  show  the  natural  politeness  of  the  lower 
classes  of  people.  Mountains  were  all  around  us,  some  of 
whose  summits  were  crowned  with  snow,  while  we  were 
under  the  clear  blue  sky,  and  the  bright  sun  of  a  warm  day. 
Our  road  often  ran  near  the  Sorgia,  which  comes  from  the 
vale  of  Vaucluse,  and  empties  into  the  Rhone  near  Avignon. 
As  we  drew  nearer  that  delightful  vale,  the  mountains  encir- 
cled us  more  closely,  till  at  last  they  appeared  to  hem  us  en- 
tirely in.  Then  the  Sorgia  came  rushing  by,  dancing  in  the 
sunlight  more  briskly  than  ever.  We  followed  the  river  up 
to  its  source,  it  every  moment  becoming  more  narrow  and 
rapid  as  it  bounded  over  the  rocks,  eager  to  escape  its  un- 


44  LETTERS. 

easy  bed.  At  last  we  came  to  the  fountain.  It  comes 
directly  from  under  the  mountain,  forming  a  little  lake,  which 
lay  before  us  in  placid  beauty.  We  climbed  partially  up  an 
almost  inaccessible  hill,  being  often  obliged  to  make  our  way 
on  our  hands  and  knees,  till  I  thought  there  would  be  left 
neither  leather  on  my  shoes  nor  kid  on  my  gloves.  When 
we  started  to  go  up,  we  left  Mr.  D.  sitting  beside  the  foun- 
tain, but  no  sooner  had  we  reached  the  height  for  which  we 
had  been  toiling,  than  we  saw  him,  with  his  characteristic 
perseverance,  coming  puffing  and  panting  after  us.  He  said 
he  could  not  submit  to  be  outdone  even  by  young  folks  like 
us.  We  seated  ourselves  on  an  overhanging  rock,  and 
looked  down  on  the  sweet  vale  below  us.  On  this  very  spot 
had  Petrarch  often  sat,  and  invoked  his  muse  in  favor  of  his 
lovely  and  adored  Laura,  making  the  rocks  resound  with  that 
name  which  so  often  dwelt  upon  his  lips.  He  used  to  call 
this  vale  his  transalpine  paradise,  and  confessed  that  he  was 
almost  angry  to  find  any  thing  so  beautiful  out  of  his  beloved 
Italy,  for  fear  it  might  weaken  his  love  for  his  native  land. 

The  fountain  seemed  to  rest  at  our  very  feet,  and  though 
farther  down  it  leaped,  and  dashed,  and  foamed  like  a  cata- 
ract, yet  here  it  lay  as  still  as  though  its  peaceful  bosom  was 
never  ruffled  by  a  breeze.  When  we  came  down,  we  picked 
some  flowers  that  grew  by  the  fountain's  edge,  and  drank 
deeply  of  its  waters ;  but  alas !  for  me,  and  for  you  too,  no 
poetic  inspiration  followed  the  draught,  even  of  the  water  of 
a  fountain  so  celebrated. 

Sweet  vale  of  Vaucluse,  farewell !  a  long  farewell  !  for  I 
may  never  again  look  on  thy  smiling  beauties,  but  oft  in  my 
dreams,  and  in  my  reminiscences  of  by-gone  days,  will  thy 
quiet  fountain  and  rippling  stream  come  before  me,  and  I 
shall  long  to  tread  once  more  the  delightful  spot  consecrated 
to  genius,  poetry  and  beauty. 

In  returning  to  Avignon,  we  saw  the  peasantry  engaged 
in  their  various  occupations.  Women  were  at  work  in 
the   fields  and    by   the  roadside,  the  cap   of   the  north  of 


LETTERS.  45 

France  displaced  by  the  large  gipsey  hat,  sometimes  of  straw, 
and  sometimes  of  black  stuff  resembling  felt.  We  met  many 
riding  or  leading  their  little  donkeys,  which  had,  as  usual, 
large  panniers  slung  across  their  backs.  Some  were  sitting 
by  the  roadside,  knitting  while  their  donkeys  were  eating, 
and  others  we  saw  knitting  as  they  walked  along.  Some  were 
washing  their  clothes  in  the  Sorgia ;  all  looked  happy  and 
contented,  and  oh  !  who  could  feel  otherwise  in  the  midst  of 
so  fiiir  a  landscape  and  under  such  a  sky  ! 

After  breakfast  this  morning,  we  crossed  the  river,  and 
passing  through  a  small  village,  came  to  the  castle  Ville- 
neuve,  which  stands  on  a  high  hill,  and  commands  a  fine 
prospect.  Around  the  castle  were  little  cottages,  and  all 
were  surrounded  by  a  wall,  like  those  castles  we  saw  on  the 
Rhone.  The  entrance  was  guarded  by  two  towers,  in  both 
of  which  were  loopholes,  so  that  the  sentry  might  see  all  who 
came  near.  We  went  up  to  the  top  of  one  of  these  towers, 
and  had  a  most  beautiful  view  of  the  country  around.  We 
saw  the  snow-capped  mountains,  and  those  that  overshadow 
the  sweet  waters  of  Vauclase.  Beneath  our  feet  lay  the  city 
of  Avignon,  with  its  turreted  wall,  and  Gothic  spires,  and 
ancient  palaces,  and  around  it  the  smiling  valley  of  the 
Rhone. 

As  we  came  down  from  the  tower,  we  visited  the  prison 
rooms  of  the  castle.  The  walls  were  of  immense  thickness, 
and  before  the  windows  was  a  double  iron  grating,  and  the 
doors  had  strong  locks  and  bolts.  In  the  door  was  a  little 
opening,  through  which  the  food  was  formerly  passed. 

After  we  recrossed  the  river,  we  went  into  the  palace 
formerly  occupied  by  the  Pope,  when  the  seat  of  papal  power 
was  removed  to  Avignon.  Our  object  was  not,  however,  to 
see  the  remains  of  its  former  magnificence,  but  merely  to 
visit  the  prison  within  its  walls.  In  one  part  of  this  palace 
was  formerly  held  that  horrible  invention  of  the  Romish 
church,  the  Inquisition.  Here  we  saw  some  of  the  instru- 
ments  of  torture,   the   remembrance   of  which   even  now 


46  LETTERS. 

freezes  the  blood  in  my  veins.  We  were  also  shown  a  large 
stone  box,  in  which  those  who  had  undergone  torture  with- 
out confession,  were  burnt.  In  the  floor  were  trap-doors, 
leading  down  to  the  subterranean  dungeons,  which,  when 
opened,  emitted  a  stream  of  damp  and  noisome  air.  Oh,  the 
scenes  of  horror  and  misery  these  walls  have  witnessed ! 
Could  they  all  be  brought  to  light,  what  a  dark  page  in  the 
history  of  human  nature  would  be  unfolded  to  our  view  ! 

We  have  at  length  gone  through  with  sight-seeing  in 
Avignon,  and  are  now  waiting  to  take  the  Diligence  for  Mar- 
seilles, which  leaves  this  afternoon.  On  the  whole,  I  have 
been  exceedingly  interested  in  this  city.  Its  richness  in 
historic  and  poetic  associations,  the  delightful  country 
around,  its  ancient  walls,  its  ruined  palaces  and  churches, 
all  give  it  a  peculiar  charm  to  my  eye. 

But  now  once  more,  adieu. 


Marseilles,  Monday. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Through  scenes  of  tribulation  and  discomfort,  we  arrived 
at  this  place.  Although  but  twelve  hours'  ride  from  Avig- 
non, it  was  about  as  unpleasant  a  journey  as  I  ever  took. 
The  Diligence  was  exceedingly  small,  so  that  six  in  the 
"Interieur,"  made  a  real  jam,  and  there  were  but  two  win- 
dows, so  that  we  suffered  much  for  fresh  air.  Opposite  to 
me  sat  one  fat  soldier,  and  next  to  me  another.  They  were 
on  their  way  to  Africa,  and  had  just  taken  a  parting  dinner 
with  some  of  their  friends.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the 
leave-taking  at  the  Diligence  office.  Although  they  were  of 
the  sterner  sex,  you  would  have  said  they  made  more  fuss 
than  the  women  generally  do  on  such  occasions.  Embraces, 
kisses,  even  tears  abounded.  At  last  the  tender  scene  was 
over,  and  we  started.     The  soldiers  soon  forgot  their  sor- 


LETTERS.  47 

rows  in  sleep,  but  from  their  open  mouths  proceeded  such 
an  odor  of  liquor  and  tobacco,  as  really  to  overpower  me. 

We  plodded  slowly  along,  over  a  poor  and  hilly  road,  the 
heat  and  close  air  at  times  exceedingly  oppressive,  and  then 
as  we  ascended  some  steep  hill,  a  blast  from  the  mountains 
would  come  so  cold,  as  to  cause  us  to  wrap  our  cloaks  close- 
ly around  us,  and  to  draw  our  travelling  caps  well  down  over 
our  ears,  but  by  the  time  this  operation  was  well  performed, 
we  were  again  almost  suffocated  by  the  heat.  Then  dark- 
ness came  on,  and  we  had  to  ride  some  time  in  the  night. 
And  as  if  all  this  was  not  enough  thoroughly  to  exhaust  me, 
I  began  to  feel  a  dreadful  cold  coming  upon  me,  so  that  by 
the  time  1  got  to  this  place,  I  was,  as  Mr. once  patheti- 
cally observed,  "  tired,  fatigued,  emaciated,  worn  out,  and 
sick."  And  yet,  for  all  this  dreary  ride,  we  had  to  pay  but 
six  francs  each,  which  was  misery  cheaply  bought. 

But  now  amid  the  glorious  scenes  before  us,  with  the 
mountains  and  the  sea  around  us,  and  the  bright  blue  sky 
above  us,  we  are  led  to  forget  all  past  troubles,  and  once 
more  to  look  forward  with  joy  and  eagerness  to  future  pleas- 
ure. 

Finding  there  was  no  English  church  in  this  city,  we  yes- 
terday resolved  to  spend  a  quiet  day  in  our  rooms.  But  who 
can  reckon  upon  a  quiet  Sunday  in  France.  Opposite  our 
windows  are  two  cafes,  in  both  of  which  the  sound  of  bil- 
liards and  dice  was  heard  the  whole  day  and  till  a  late  hour 
at  night.  All  sorts  of  noises,  vulgarly  yclept  music,  were 
constantly  heard ;  men  there  were  with  hand  organs,  and 
children  with  violins  and  tamborines.  At  one  time  there 
were  three  children  under  our  windows ;  one  played  on  a 
violin,  and  the  othei^two,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  danced.  They 
went  through  the  figures  of  a  beautiful  dance  even  to  the 
waltz  and  gallopade ;  but  ah !  what  grace  could  there  be  in 
dancing  on  stone  pavements  and  in  wooden  shoes  ?  Then 
came  quite  a  large  girl,  well  dressed  and  rather  pretty,  with 
a  violin  in  her  hand.     She  boldly  entered  one  of  the  cafes, 


48  LETTERS. 

and  after  playing  a  few  tunes,  marched  round  the  room, 
holding  out  a  little  cup  for  sous.  Then  there  were  flower 
girls  with  their  little  nosegays  to  sell.  They  would  take  a 
rose,  fix  it  in  a  gentleman's  coat,  and  then  hold  out  their 
hands  for  their  pay.  With  such  sounds  and  such  scenes 
around  us,  we  could  find  no  rest,  so  toward  night  we  walked 
out.  But  we  soon  returned  to  our  rooms,  well  satisfied  that 
we  could  find  as  much  quiet  there,  as  any  where.  We  pass- 
ed several  cafes,  where  on  elevated  seats  in  the  back  part  of 
the  room,  were  women  dressed  in  theatrical  attire,  who  were 
singing  loudly  in  order  to  attract  customers,  but  I  must  say 
in  palliation,  that  this  was  seen  only  in  those  cafes  that  have 
not  the  highest  claims  to  respectability.  In  no  one  of  the 
first  class  cafes  would  the  most  delicate  female  witness  any 
thing  to  shock  her  sense  of  propriety. 

Every  where  in  the  streets  and  in  the  houses,  we  heard 
music  and  dancing,  and  then  such  narrow,  dirty  streets,  you 
can  have  no  idea  how  filthy  every  thing  is.  The  streets  are 
so  narrow  and  the  houses  so  high,  that  the  air  is  constantly 
close  and  impure.  We  were  much  struck  at  the  sight  of  the 
different  nations  we  met ;  here  were  the  dark-eyed  Italian, 
the  olive-brown  Spaniard  and  Portuguese,  the  Greek  and 
the  Turk  in  their  loose  trowsers,  the  Chinese  and  Persian  in 
their  long  flowing  robes,  and  the  dark  African,  and  all  speak- 
ing their  own  tongues,  almost  led  us  to  fancy  that  we  were 
carried  back  to  the  very  tower  of  Babel. 

This  morning  we  walked  to  a  fort  on  the  top  of  a  high  hill, 
overlooking  the  city  and  the  sea.  It  was  a  hard  walk,  up 
steps  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock,  but  the  view  from  so  com- 
manding a  height  amply  repaid  us  for  our  trouble.  In  a  little 
observatory  attached  to  this  fort,  a  mariPis  constantly  on  the 
look-out  for  vessels  entering  the  harbor.  As  soon  as  he  sees 
one  afar  off"  in  the  distance,  and  discerns  by  his  telescope 
her  name  and  where  she  is  from,  he  communicates  his  intel- 
ligence by  signals ;  this  is  immediately  telegraphed,  so  that 
in  connection  with  the  telegraph  in  Lyons,  of  which  I  before 


LETTERS.  49 

spoke,  in  a  short  time  information  arrives  in  Paris  of  what  is 
going  on  in  this  distant  port.  We  looked  through  the  teles- 
cope, and  were  surprised  at  the  ease  with  which  we  saw  ob- 
jects that  were  entirely  invisible  to  the  naked  eye.  A  light- 
house, six  leagues  off,  seemed  close  at  hand,  and  a  little  fort 
four  miles  distant,  lay  at  our  very  feet. 

From  this  hill  the  view,  as  I  said  before,  is  very  fine. 
Mountains  were  around  us,  some  with  bare  and  rock-ribbed 
summits,  others  covered  with  trees,  with  white  houses  and 
cottages  ever  and  anon  peeping  out,  as  from  a  hiding  place. 
The  harbor  of  Marseilles,  as  your  geography  will  tell  you,  is 
one  of  the  best  in  the  world.  The  largest  ships  go  up  to  the 
very  wharves,  and  unload  their  cargoes  at  the  doors  of  the 
warehouses,  and  as  there  is  no  variation  in  the  tide,  vessels 
come  in  and  go  out  at  any  hour.  Ships  from  almost  every 
port  are  here  seen ;  there  are  always  as  many  as  six  hundred 
in  the  harbor  at  once,  and  often  a  thousand. 

We  took  a  nice  little  boat  this  morning,  and  sailed  down, 
to  visit  the  steamers  about  starting  for  Naples.  We  selected 
the  Castor,  which  leaves  on  Wednesday.  We  were  careful 
to  choose  an  English  built  boat,  and  one  too  which  has  an 
Ensflish  engineer,  as  I  have  no  confidence  in  goincr  with  a 
rattle-headed  Frenchman,  or  Italian. 

This  afternoon  we  took  a  ride  round  the  city  and  envi- 
rons. We  stopped  at  the  office  of  the  "  Board  of  Health,'" 
the  windows  of  which  have  an  iron  netting  before  them. 
Here  letters  and  packages  are  brought  from  vessels  lying  at 
quarantine  ground,  and  dipped  in  vinegar  before  sent  into 
the  city.  We  rode  to  the  seashore,  by  the  new  road  not  yet 
completed.  It  is  called  "  The  Prado,"  and  is  three  miles 
long,  and  turns  but  once  from  the  city  to  the  sea.  It  is  very 
wide,  and  is  lined  with  a  double  row  of  trees,  and  no  houses 
are  allowed  to  be  built  on  either  side,  except  in  one  partic- 
ular style.  All  must  stand  at  just  such  a  distance  from  the 
road,  and  must  have  an  open  fence  in  front.  When  com- 
pleted, it  will  be  one  of  the  finest  promenades  in  Europe. 
5 


50  LETTERS. 

We  got  out  of  the  carriage  and  walked  some  time  on  the 
beach.  The  clear  blue  water  came  in  with  a  soft,  lulling 
sound.  The  last  rays  of  the  sun  threw  their  red  light  over 
the  scene:  then  came  the  peaceful  twilight,  and  the  vast  ex- 
panse of  water  seemed  to  sleep.  The  stars,  like  angels'  eyes 
looked  down,  and  surely  it  was  a  scene  meet  for  their  pure 
gaze.  But  perhaps  you  do  not  love  the  sea  as  I  do,  so  I  "11 
e'en  forbear. 

And  now,  wearied  nature  demands  repose  ;  so  good  night, 
to  you,  and  all  the  dear  ones  around  you. 

Wednesday  morning. 

I  went  out  but  little  yesterday,  as  J.  and  Mr.  D.  were  en- 
gaged for  a  long  time  in  seeing  about  the  passports.  Though 
signed  by  almost  every  Consul  and  Minister  in  Paris,  yet 
they  were  obliged  to  pay  the  American  Consul  here  ten 
francs  a-piece  for  his  signature,  and  he  told  them  for  their 
consolation,  that  this  M^as  but  the  beginning  of  trouble  and 
expense  in  the  passport  line.  Well,  be  that  as  it  may,  thus 
far  we  have  had  so  little  trouble,  that  we  must  not  grumble 
if  we  suffer  some  inconvenience  hereafter. 

W^e  walked  last  evening  to  the  Cemetery  which  is  quite 
prettily  laid  out.  There  are  three  separate  enclosures,  the 
Protestant,  Romish  and  Jewish,  divided  from  each  other  by 
a  high  wall.  The  three  faiths  are  kept  as  distinct  after  death 
as  before ;  there  is  no  mingling  one  with  another. 

We  had  a  good  deal  of  fun  yesterday  at  dinner.  Two 
Englishmen  sat  opposite  to  us,  who  expressed  much  sympathy 
for  the  ignorance  of  those  who  would  get  up  from  table  after 
eating  a  hearty  dinner,  and  go  out  walking  or  riding;  declar- 
inor  that  no  one  oucrht  to  move  from  the  table  till  he  had  sat 
there  three  hours  at  least.  I  thought  they  probably  had  not 
such  a  "  budget  of  letters  "  to  fill  out  as  I  had,  or  they  would 
not  feel  like  sparing  so  much  time. 

We  are  now  in  readiness  to  go  to  the  steamer.  Every 
thing  is  packed  up,  and  the  man  has  come  to  take  our  bag- 
gage; so  once  more  I  leave  you.  Yours,  ever. 


LETTERS.  51 


Genoa,  May  7. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Well,  here  we  are  in  "  a  fine  fix,"  kept  fi-om  pursuing 
our  journey,  and  all  arising  fi-om  that  vexing  passport.  Not- 
withstanding the  composure  with  which  I  received  the  Con- 
sul's announcement  on  Tuesday,  that  we  must  expect  trouble 
befi)re  we  got  much  farther,  you  see  I  have  already  quite  lost 
my  patience.  But  this  is  not  an  orthodox  way  of  telling  a 
story,  so  I  will  e'en  begin  at  the  beginning.  We  were  on 
board  the  steamer  Wednesday  morning,  with  our  usual  punc- 
tuality, by  twelve  o'clock,  at  which  time  she  was  advertised 
to  sail.  We  did  not  get  away  however,  until  after  two. 
The  sun  was  so  intensely  hot,  that  I  could  stay  on  deck  but 
a  little  while  after  we  started,  so  I  went  to  the  cabin,  laid 
down  and  slept  till  evening.  When  I  awoke,  the  boat  was 
rolling  and  pitching  about,  the  waves  were  roaring  and  dash- 
ing around  us,  the  wind  was  howling,  and  all  this  with  the 
rumbling  of  the  engine,  produced  a  terrible  and  almost  deaf- 
ening noise.  I  arose  and  went  on  deck.  The  sky  was  per- 
fectly black,  not  a  star  was  to  be  seen,  and  the  sea  looked  as 
dark; and  threatening  as  the  sky  ;  so  I  went  back  to  the  cabin, 
read  awhile  in  a  Boston  newspaper,  which  was  given  me  in 
Marseilles,  and  which,  by  the  way,  was  the  first  American 
newspaper  I  had  seen  since  I  left  home,  and  then  went  to  my 
berth  again.  When  next  I  awoke,  we  were  in  the  harbor  of 
Genoa.  Soon  we  were  summoned  on  deck.  It  was  a  beau- 
tiful morning;  the  blue  sea  lay  stretched  around  us,  bearing 
not  an  impress  of  the  last  night's  storm.  We  were  surround- 
ed by  a  multitude  of  small  boats,  waiting  for  the  consent  of 
the  authorities  to  take  us  ashore.  In  one  boat  sat  a  health 
officer,  who  with  a  huge  pair  of  tongs,  took  the  papers  the 
captain  sent  him.  After  he  had  looked  over  them,  we  were 
made  to  pass  before  him  in  a  row,  the  captain  counting  us 
off  as  we  passed.  Was  it  not  like  a  farce,  he,  in  his  little 
boat,  at  a  goodly  distance  from  us,  pretending  to  judge  of  our 
health,  by  seeing  us  march  before  him  like  a  flock  of  sheep  ? 


52  LETTERS. 

He  took  our  passports  away  with  him.  We  went  off  too,  and 
no  sooner  had  we  stepped  on  land,  than  we  were  hurried  into 
a  little  stone  building,  where  our  names  were  registered. 
This  manoeuvring  over,  we  went  to  the  '*  Hotel  de  Londre," 
where  we  had  a  good  breakfast,  after  which,  we  took  a  guide 
and  a  carriage,  and  went  about  to  see  the  city.  We  first 
visited  the  palace  of  the  king  of  Sardinia,  which  is  occupied 
by  him  but  one  month  in  a  year.  I  shall  not  bore  you  with 
a  description  of  the  rooms  of  this  palace,  nor  of  the  beautiful 
pictures  with  which  it  is  ornamented,  but  will  reserve  this 
and  many  other  things,  for  some  long  winter  evening's  talk. 

We  went  into  the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo,  where,  it  is 
said,  repose  the  true  remains  of  John  the  Baptist.  The  iron 
urn  in  which  are  the  bones,  is  in  one  of  the  side  chapels. 
Mr.  D.  and  J.  were  permitted  to  enter  the  chapel  and  view 
the  urn,  but  I  was  not  allowed  to  go  within  the  railing,  and 
for  what  reason  do  you  think  ?  Why,  because  a  woman 
was  instrumental  in  causing  the  death  of  John  the  Baptist, 
the  Pope  has  commanded  that  no  female  shall  ever  behold 
these  sacred  relics  !  There  's  logic  for  you!  So  I,  having 
the  misfortune  of  belonging  to  the  prohibited  sex,  v,as  kept 
afar  off. 

How  much  I  wish  you  could  see  the  beautiful  gardens  of 
Genoa.  We  spent  two  or  three  hours  in  wandering  through 
them,  and  never  in  my  gayest  dreams,  did  I  imagine  any 
thing  half  so  fair  and  enchanting,  as  these  magnificent  gar- 
dens. The  air  was  rich  with  the  scent  of  the  orange  and 
lemon  blossoms,  the  red  and  yellow  and  white  roses  grew 
on  large  trees,  the  splendid  cactus,  the  scarlet  camellia,  the 
beautiful  japonica,  the  verbena ;  in  short,  flowers  of  every 
clime  and  every  hue  met  the  eye  on  either  side.  We  saw 
too  the  tea  and  coffee  plants,  the  pineapple,  the  India-rub- 
ber tree,  and  every  thing  that  is  rare  and  valuable.  Could  I 
have  transported  to  you  in  all  their  freshness  and  beauty,  the 
bunches  of  costly  flowers  that  were  there  given  me,  you 
would  have   acknowledged  that   in  your  cold  New  England 


LETTERS.  53 

there  was  nothing  that  could  compare  with  them.  Then 
there  were  fountains  too  of  all  designs,  eagles,  birds,  ser- 
pents spouting  water  in  the  most  beautiful  grottoes,  Neptune 
in  his  car,  drawn  by  his  seahorses,  and  surrounded  by  naiads 
sending  forth  water  from  their  mouths.  Oh  !  it  was  all  beau- 
tiful, and  far  exceeding  my  feeble  powers  of  description. 

Genoa  is  a  large  city,  and  is  called  by  many,  "  the  city  of 
palaces,"  there  being  nearly  an  hundred.  Many  of  them  are 
large  and  lofty  buildings,  but  without  any  claim  to  external 
beauty;  others  are  magnificent  looking.  Most  of  these  belong 
to  nobles  residing  at  foreign  courts,  or  to  decayed  families, 
and  may  be  rented  for  a  small  sum,  so  that  one  can  live  in  a 
palace  here  as  cheaply  as  in  an  ordinary  house  at  home.  On 
this  account,  many  of  them  are  used  as  offices  for  the  trans- 
action of  business. 

The  streets  are  very  narrow ;  many  of  them  are  no 
wider  than  our  sidewalks,  and  of  course  are  quite  impassable 
for  carriages ;  and  here  we  first  saw  in  use  those  means  of 
conveyance,  the  sedan  chairs,  of  which  we  have  so  often 
read.  This  is  a  kind  of  chair,  fastened  on  a  handbarrow, 
which  is  beautifully  painted  or  gilded,  and  so  covered  with 
rich  hangings,  that  the  occupant  of  the  chair  may  be  entirely 
concealed  from  view.  It  is  borne  by  two  men  who  walk 
very  rapidly,  and  you  see  them  darting  in  and  out  the  narrow 
streets  and  the  courts  of  the  houses,  and  now  and  then  catch 
a  glimpse  of  some  dark  eye  glistening  through  the  folds  of 
the  curtains. 

The  houses  are  so  high  that  the  tops  seem  to  meet,  thus 
making  the  streets  cool  and  shady.  All  trades  and  occupa- 
tions, even  to  the  washing  of  dishes,  clothes  and  children,  are 
carried  on  at  the  very  doors  of  the  shops  and  houses.  This 
at  first  excited  my  wonder,  till  I  found  out  it  was  owing  to 
the  little  light  that  penetrated  down  these  narrow  streets. 

The  women  wear  no  bonnets,  but  almost  all  have  a  thin 
white  muslin  scarf  upon  their  heads,  the  ends  reaching  be- 
low the  waist.  We  saw  priests  in  abundance,  the  most  of 
5* 


54  LETTERS. 

them  seeming  to  be  in  much  better  keeping  than  those  we 
saw  in  France.     Soldiers  and  beggars  too  abounded. 

At  dinner  to-day  I  saw  two  new  things.  Grated  cheese 
was  passed  around  to  put  in  the  soup,  which,  by  the  way,  is 
a  great  improvement,  and  at  each  plate  was  a  little  toothpick. 
Quite  an  advance  in  civilization. 

After  dinner,  we  went  to  the  steamboat,  anticipating  no 
difficulty  whatever,  but  we  soon  found  to  our  amazement  and 
consternation  that  we  could  not  go  on,  because  our  passport 
was  only  signed  for  Genoa.  In  vain  we  talked  ;  in  vain  the 
captain  stormed,  and  assured  us  that  he  told  us  of  this  in  the 
morning ;  it  was  all  news  to  us,  for  if  he  did  tell  us,  it  was  in 
his  mixture  of  French  and  Italian,  impossible  for  any  one  to 
understand.  Mr.  D.'s  passport  came  on  board ;  ours  was 
left  behind.  The  "  long  and  the  short "  of  the  story  was 
this,  (I  assure  you  there  was  more  "long"  than  "short" 
to  it),  because  we  did  not  signify  at  the  police  office  yester- 
day morning,  that  we  were  going  to  leave  in  the  evening,  the 
passport  was  not  signed  by  the  health  officer,  and  if  we  were 
allowed  to  go  on  without  his  certificate,  we  should  throw  the 
boat  at  the  next  port  in  quarantine  for  two  weeks,  no  very 
agreeable  prospect,  to  be  sure,  so  we  had  to  give  up.  Our 
baggage  was  taken  from  the  hold,  which,  as  we  came  on 
board  the  first  at  Marseilles,  was  no  easy  task,  and  we  bade 
*'  good  bye"  to  Mr.  D.,  telling  him  to  secure  us  a  room  at  a 
good  hotel  in  Naples,  and  once  more  came  on  shore,  where 
we  were  stopped,  and  our  baggage  thoroughly  examined  by 
the  custom-house  officers.  I  was  exhausted  with  the  day's 
fatigue  and  perplexity,  and  at  this  last  hindrance  I  com- 
pletely lost  my  temper,  and  heartily  wished  the  Italian  lan- 
guage, passport,  and  every  thing  connected  with  it,  at  the 
bottom  of  the  Red  Sea.  Bat  a  night's  rest  restored  my 
equanimity,  and  the  first  thing  we  did  this  morning,  after 
getting  our  breakfast,  was  to  race  all  over  town,  accompa- 
nied by  our  guide,  to  see  that  our  passport  was  right  this 
time,  and    all    due    certificates    of  our  health  were  given. 


LETTERS.  55 

Through  narrow  streets  and  alleys,  up  one  hill,  down  an- 
other, now  up  three  or  four  flights  of  stairs,  now  down  ao-ain, 
we  went,  till  all  the  ceremonies  were  over,  and  the  passport 
had  been  signed  by  the  consuls  for  Tuscany,  Sardinia,  Naples, 
and  I  can't  tell  how  many  more  kingdoms,  and  by  all  the 
health  officers  in  the  bargain.  This  labor  being  accomplish- 
ed, we  began  again  to  look  around  us.  We  visited  the 
Brignole  palace,  where  is  the  finest  collection  of  paintings  in 
Genoa.  Here  are  the  productions  of  the  choicest  and  most 
renowned  masters,  Titian,  Tintoretto,  Guido,  Guercino,  Ca- 
racci,  Cappucino,  Veronese,  Rubens,  and  others  whose  names 
have  stood  first  in  the  number  of  those  whom  fame  has  bla- 
zoned forth  as  among  the  most  distinguished  artists  the  world 
ever  produced.  Nor  must  1  forget  one  splendid  picture  by 
Raphael,  the  infant  Jesus  and  his  mother !  The  expression 
of  the  faces  is  most  seraphic,  the  coloring  and  finishing 
perfect.  Again  and  again  did  we  return  to  it,  and  when 
obliged  to  leave  the  gallery,  the  "last,  longing,  lingering 
look"  was  turned  to  the  gentle  face  of  Mary,  and  the  lovely 
innocence  of  the  holy  child.  In  a  picture  of  Christ's  agony 
in  the  garden,  by  one  of  the  old  masters,  there  is  a  look  of 
mute  anguish  and  chastened  sorrow  in  the  upturned  face  of 
the  Saviour,  which  is  enough  to  excite  all  hearts  to  sympa- 
thy for  that  Holy  Being,  who,  though  he  was  high,  yet  hum- 
bled himself  for  our  sakes,  and  became  "  a  man  of  sorrows 
and  acquainted  with  grief" 

We  ascended  to  the  top  of  a  dome  of  one  of  the  churches, 
and  had  such  a  view  as  amply  to  repay  us  for  our  ascent  up 
two  hundred  and  fifty-three  steps.  The  sea  lay  in  one  vast 
expanse  before  us,  as  calm,  and  tranquil,  and  beautiful,  as 
though  never  stirred  to  fury.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  to 
you  the  clear  blue  of  the  Mediterranean,  it  is  so  entirely  dif- 
ferent from  the  blue  of  the  ocean.  It  is  more  of  an  indigo 
cast,  and  the  water  is  so  clear  and  transparent,  that  often 
you  can  see  far  down  into  its  very  depths.  Behind  us  were 
the  lofty  mountains  that  almost    encircle   Genoa,  while  be- 


56  LETTERS. 

tvveen  them  and  the  sea  lay  the  city,  with   its  churches,  and 
palaces,  and  beautiful  gardens. 

And  now  we  are  waiting  for  the  boat  to  come  and  carry 
us  off  to  a  steamer  that  sails  this  evening  for  Naples.  I  have 
seized  a  few  moments  of  rest  to  write  you  this  hasty  account. 
Fear  not  for  us  hereafter,  for  we  have  had  trouble  enough 
this  time,  to  lead  us  to  look  out  pretty  closely  for  the  future, 
that  our  passport  is  signed  by  every  body  and  for  every  place, 
and  that  a  due  certificate  of  our  good  health  is  always  ready  ; 
and  you  certainly  need  have  no  anxiety  for  our  health,  since 
you  see  it  is  the  object  of  so  much  care  to  those  high  in  au- 
thority.    Now  adieu  to  Genoa,  and  adieu  to  thee. 


On  board  Steamer  Francois  I. 
Saturda}'  eve. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

"  Once  more  upon  the  sea."  From  some  cause  to  us  un- 
known, we  are  deterred  from  getting  off  immediately,  so  with 
my  usual  propensity  to  occupy  each  passing  moment,  I  seize 
my  pen  to  write  to  you,  not  knowing  when  I  shall  be  able  to 
finish  my  letter.  We  have  had  a  busy  day  to-day,  and  I  has- 
ten to  give  you  an  account  of  the  "  things  which  I  saw." 
We  arrived  in  Leghorn  quite  early  this  morning,  and,  with- 
out spending  any  time  in  looking  around  there,  took  a  car- 
riage and  started  for  Pisa,  about  fifteen  miles  distant.  We 
were  fortunate  enough  to  procure  a  guide  who  spoke  Eng- 
glish,  one  too  who  has  been  in  America,  and  in  our  own 
city.  No  sooner  had  we  started  than  we  were  surrounded 
by  beggars,  the  lame,  the  halt,  and  the  blind;  each  had 
his  pitiful  story  to  relate,  but  as  our  horses  were  pretty  quick, 
we  should  soon  have  left  them  in  the  back-ground,  had  it  not 
been  that  the  lame  threw  away  their  crutches,  trusting  to 
their  own  good  feet  and  legs,  and  the  blind  suddenly  recov- 


LETTERS.  57 

ered  their  eyesight,  and  the  decrepid  and  infirm  became,  as 
by  magic,  sound  and  vigorous,  so  that  they  all  had  strength 
to  follow  us  for  some  distance,  raising  their  clamorous  cries 
for  charity. 

We  enjoyed  the  ride  much;  the  road  was  most  excellent, 
and  the  country  beautiful.  The  land,  for  nearly  the  whole  dis- 
tance, is  the  private  property  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany, 
in  whose  dominions  we  then  were,  and  is  in  a  fine  state  of 
cultivation.  Although  early  in  May,  grain  was  very  high, 
and  almost  ripe  for  the  harvest.  Instead  of  hedges,  trees 
were  planted  around  the  fields,  and  from  tree  to  tree  the  vine 
was  thrown  in  festoons,  which  had  a  most  picturesque  ap- 
pearance. On  the  road,  we  passed  a  large  basin  of  Egyptian 
granite,  which  was  brought  from  Egypt  by  sea  to  Leghorn, 
and  was  then  on  the  way  to  Florence,  to  adorn  the  garden  of 
the  Grand  Duke.  You  may  form  some  estimate  of  its  size  and 
weight,  when  I  tell  you  it  was  drawn  by  twenty  yokes  of  the 
real  buffalo,  and  by  as  many  more  pairs  of  oxen.  The  road, 
solid  and  perfect  as  it  seemed  to  be,  was  much  broken  up  by 
it  in  several  places.  As  we  were  riding  along,  looking  now 
hither,  now  thither,  a  bunch  of  roses  was  suddenly  thrust 
into  my  face.  On  looking  round,  I  perceived  it  was  fastened 
on  a  little  rod  which  a  boy  held  in  his  hand.  He  ran  along 
by  the  carriage  for  some  time,  till  at  last  J.  handed  him  a 
small  piece  of  money,  holding  out  his  hand  for  the  flowers, 
when  lo !  they  vanished,  and  the  boy  was  "  among  the  miss- 
ing." We  laughed  heartily  at  the  idea  of  having  to  pay  for 
a  smell  in  this  land  of  flowers  and  rich  odors. 

Pisa  is  beautifully  situated  on  both  sides  of  the  Arno. 
The  streets  are  wide  and  clean,  and  the  houses  quite  hand- 
some. But  it  seemed  like  a  deserted  city ;  not  a  carriage, 
nor  hardly  a  foot  passenger  was  to  be  seen  ;  but  in  the  win- 
ter, I  am  told  the  city  is  very  full,  it  being  quite  a  fashiona- 
ble place  of  resort  for  the  Florentines. 

We  went  to  the  Cathedral,  a  large  church,  built  in  the 
form  of  a  cross,  and  surmounted  by  a  dome,  and  here  I  will 


58  LETTERS. 

just  say,  that  in  all  the  churches  where  there  is  a  dome,  the 
interior  lies  open  to  the  very  roof,  giving  a  church  thus  built 
a  loftiness  of  appearance  which  is  almost  unsurpassed  by  any 
other  style  of  architecture.  This  is  the  most  splendid  church 
we  have  yet  seen,  and  would  well  deserve  a  longer  examina- 
tion than  we  were  able  to  give  it.  Here  are  some  of  the  oldest 
paintings  now  extant.  This  church  was  built  in  the  eleventh 
century ;  at  that  time,  every  thing  that  was  taken  as  spoils  of 
v/ar,  was  consecrated  to  religious  purposes  ;  hence  the  valu- 
able paintings  and  rare  marbles  that  are  here  seen  in  abun- 
dance. The  doors  of  the  church  are  of  bronze,  divided  into 
compartments,  and  sculptured  in  illustration  of  various  scrip- 
tural scenes.  The  floor  is  of  marble  of  different  colors. 
Around  the  sides  of  the  church  are  tombs  of  many  bishops 
and  archbishops,  each  one  being  a  handsome  piece  of  sculp- 
ture. Here,  too,  repose  the  true  remains  of  a  celebrated 
virgin,  who,  in  her  lifetime,  performed  many  miracles,  and 
whose  bones  are  now  shown  once  a  year  amid  solemn  pomp 
and  grandeur.  Truly  an  edifying  scene  !  And  here  too  are 
the  remains  of  another  eminent  saint,  which  likewise  are 
shown  once  a  year,  and,  marvellous  to  relate,  though  he  has 
been  dead  many,  many  years,  they  yet  have  a  fresh  appear- 
ance !  So  said  the  guide ;  and  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  believe  it  or  not,  just  as  you  please." 

In  one  part  of  the  church  two  priests  were  performing  ser- 
vice; one  of  them  read  so  fast  that  he  actually  had  to  stop  to 
catch  his  breath,  and  several  times  he  spit  on  the  steps  of  the 
very  altar  before  which  he  was  bowing,  and  which  he  had 
previously  kissed  with  so  much  apparent  reverence. 

We  then  went  into  the  Baptistery,  which  stands  just  back 
of  the  church.  It  is  of  an  octagonal  shape,  and  is  quite  large 
enough  to  be  a  church  of  itself.  The  roof  is  supported  by 
large  pillars  of  Sardinian  granite,  and  smaller  ones  of  white 
marble.  The  font  is  of  white  marble,  and  is  in  the  middle  of 
the  building;  this  is  for  adults;  around  it  are  four  smaller 
ones  for  infants.     All  these  fonts  were  evidently  designed 


LETTERS.  59 

for  administering  baptism  by  immersion.  There  was  one  of 
the  finest  echoes  in  the  Baptistery  I  ever  heard.  The  sexton 
sung  a  few  notes,  and  the  echo  was  like  the  clear  tones  of 
an  organ. 

We  then  visited  the  Campanile,  or,  as  it  is  more  familiarly 
termed,  "the Leaning  Tower."  Who  has  not  heard  of  this? 
Why  even  in  our  very  childhood,  we  thought  of  it  as  one  of 
the  seven  wonders  of  the  world.  You  may  well  imagine 
then  the  eagerness  with  which  we  looked  for  it,  and  the 
quick  steps  with  which  we  passed  under  the  leaning  side,  as 
though  it  was  going  to  fall  upon  us.  And  yet,  just  so  has  it 
stood  for  hundreds  of  years.  Whether  it  was  originally  built 
so,  or  whether  from  an  earthquake,  or  the  natural  looseness 
of  the  soil,  it  has  thus  inclined  from  the  perpendicular, 
seems  still  to  be  a  matter  of  doubt.  The  general  impression 
here  is,  that  it  was  built  so,  and  it  is  supposed  the  architect 
reasoned  thus: — " -d  straight  tower,  however  high,  is  no 
strange  thing,  but  a  leaning  tower  is ;  therefore,  I  will  build 
one  that  shall  be  a  wonder  to  all  ages."  I  have  no  time  or 
inclination  to  go  into  the  merits  of  this  controversy,  but  will 
leave  it  to  those  better  versed  in  antiquarian  lore.  This 
tower  is  of  a  circular  form,  is  eight  stories  high,  and  is 
adorned  on  the  outside  with  marble  pillars.  In  fact  the 
whole  tower  is  of  marble.  The  walls  are  of  great  thickness. 
We  ascended  to  the  top  by  two  hundred  and  ninety-five 
steps,  and  had  a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  We 
saw  the  beautiful  vale  watered  by  the  Arno,  whose  meander- 
ings  we  could  trace  for  several  miles,  while  far  away  stretch- 
ed the  blue  sea.  High  mountains  bounded  the  horizon,  on 
some  of  whose  summits  we  saw  the  snow  glistening.  There 
are  seven  bells  in  this  tower,  the  largest  of  which  weicrhs 
twenty  tons.  In  former  times  the  bells  of  a  church  were 
rarely  placed  in  the  church  itself,  but  generally  a  tower  was 
built  purposely  for  their  use.  The  leaning  tower  of  Pisa  is 
one  hundred  and  ninety  feet  high,  and  inclines  from  the  per- 
pendicular six  feet  on  the  inside,  and  fifteen  feet  on  the  out- 
side. 


$0  LETTERS. 

We  next  went  to  the  "  Campo  Santo,"  an  ancient  burial- 
place.  This  is  a  most  beautiful  building,  surrounded  by 
three  hundred  and  sixty-two  light  and  elegant  arcades.  It  is 
built  round  a  court,  the  earth  of  which  was  brought  from  the 
Holy  Land  in  the  year  1200.  Tradition  says  that  such  was 
the  power  of  this  earth,  that  bodies  buried  in  it  lost  all  their 
flesh  in  the  short  space  of  twenty-four  hours.  There  are  no 
monuments  in  the  court,  but  the  walls  are  covered  with  in- 
scriptions, and  lined  with  monuments  of  various  periods, 
some  of  very  ancient  date,  others  more  modern.  Here  all 
the  nobility  were  formerly  buried,  but  eighty-seven  years 
have  now  elapsed,  since  any  interments  have  taken  place ; 
and  our  voluble  guide  told  us  that  millions  of  money  would 
not  purchase  permission  to  be  laid  in  the  Campo  Santo,  be- 
cause at  one  time  the  nobles  murmured  at  being  placed  so 
near  the  common  people,  so  a  decree  was  issued  that  no  one 
hereafter  should  be  buried  there.  The  walls  in  many  places 
are  painted  in  fresco.  In  one  scene  representing  the  judg- 
ment, among  those  in  ''  the  torments  of  hell,"  is  one  man 
whose  face  so  strongly  resembles  that  of  Napoleon,  as  to  ex- 
cite universal  attention.  Yet  this  was  done  at  least  four 
hundred  years  before  his  time. 

After  going  into  a  cafe  and  getting  some  refreshment, 
consisting  of  bread  and  strawberries,  we  started  on  our  re- 
turn for  Leghorn.  We  were  obliged  to  come  immediately 
on  board,  so  I  can  give  you  no  account  whatever  of  that  city. 
The  steamers  do  not  stop  at  the  wharves,  but  lie  off  in  the 
harbor,  so  we  are  obliged  to  come  and  go  in  little  boats, 
which  are  fitted  up  in  pretty  taste,  having  little  awnings  of 
colored  cloth.  But  now  we  are  bounding  over  the  sea,  and 
it  is  quite  too  rough  for  me  to  write  more;  so  for  the  present, 
good  bye. 

Naples,  Monday  morning. 

At  length  behold  us  arrived  in  this  far-famed  city  of  Na- 
ples. I  raise  my  head  to  look  out  of  the  window,  and  before 
me  lays  the  beautiful  bay,  its  waters  as  clear  and  as  blue  as 


LETTERS.  61 

the  sky  above.  I  am  at  present  in  Mr.  D.'s  room,  and  while 
waiting  for  one  to  be  prepared  for  us,  improve  the  time  to 
finish  this  letter,  and  to  give  you  an  account  of  the  remain- 
der of  our  journey  hither. 

All  day  yesterday  we  lay  in  the  harbor  of  Civita  Vecchia, 
not  being  allowed  to  go  on  shore.  The  reason  of  this  was, 
it  being  a  gala  day,  the  custom-house  officers  were  officiat- 
ing in  church,  and  did  not  come  off  to  us  till  the  services 
were  over.  It  was  two  o'clock  before  they  came  on  board, 
and  then  our  passports  and  certificates  of  health  were  duly 
examined,  so  that  by  the  time  all  the  formalities  were  over, 
it  was  so  late  that  the  captain  would  not  allow  any  one  to  go 
on  shore.  After  church  the  people  gathered  in  crowds  on 
the  wharves  ;  soldiers  were  there  with  their  bands  of  music, 
but  the  multitude  seemed  absorbed  in  watching  a  number  of 
men  and  boys,  diving  one  after  another  from  a  high  ladder 
into  the  sea.     And  thus  ended  the  day  off  Civita  Vecchia. 

I  went  early  to  my  berth,  but  passed  a  sleepless  night.  It 
was  dreadfully  rough.  The  sea  came  pouring  over  the  deck; 
one  man  fell  thump  out  of  his  berth,  and  every  thing  went 
crash,  as  though  the  boat  was  going  to  pieces.  I  thought  if 
ever  I  got  out  of  that  steamboat  it  would  be  long  ere  1  went 
into  another.  I  know  not  why  it  is,  that  while  the  days 
have  been  so  pleasant  the  nights  have  been  so  stormy.  I 
never  saw  it  rougher  on  the  ocean  than  it  has  been  the  three 
nights  we  have  been  on  the  Mediterranean. 

At  last  the  sea  became  calmer  and  smoother,  and  we  soon 
arrived  in  sight  of  Naples.  Mr.  D.  came  off  in  a  small  boat 
for  us,  and  after  a  scene  of  "  confusion  worse  confounded," 
of  officers  coming  on  board  and  going  off  again,  of  men  fly- 
ing hither  and  thither,  of  jabbering  in  French  and  Italian, 
permission  came  for  us  to  land,  and  we  started  for  shore. 
Our  baggage  was  literally  searched,  the  top  of  the  trunk 
broken,  and  the  clothes  put  back  in  such  disorder  that  it 
was  impossible  to  lock  it.  However,  they  could  not  find 
any  thing  to  lay  their  clutches  on,  but  my  shawl,  which  one 
6 


62  LETTERS. 

of  them  took  on  his  arm  with  a  triumphant  air,  but  I  coolly 
pointed  to  the  marks  of  its  having  been  worn,  so  he  quickly 
put  it  down  again.  Another  got  hold  of  my  journal,  first 
taking  it  upside  down,  but  making  nothing  of  it  so,  he  turn- 
ed it  another  way,  looking  all  the  time  as  though  he  was 
completely  puzzled.  And  well  he  might  be,  for  to  him  it 
was  written  in  strange  hieroglyphics,  and  I  will  not  say  but 
I  may  find  some  trouble  in  reading  it  myself 

J.  witnessed  quite  a  curious  sight  this  morning.  A  man 
in  the  cabin  took  out  of  his  carpet  bag  a  beautiful  shawl,  and 
a  splendid  piece  of  goods,  which  he  wrapped  around  him, 
and  over  which  he  put  his  clothes,  and  thus  defied  the  cus- 
tom-house officers. 

But  I  am  told  our  room  is  ready ;  so  I  leave  you  now. 

Yours  ever. 


Naples,  Tuesday  evening. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Excited  and  interested  as  1  have  been  in  the  events  of  this 
day,  I  cannot  allow  myself  to  rest  till  I  have  given  you  some 
idea,  however  faint,  of  the  objects  that  have  occupied  our 
attention  since  I  last  wrote.  You  may  well  suppose  that  one 
of  our  first  desires  was  to  see  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum. 
Accordingly,  we  set  out  early  this  morning,  and  spent  the 
whole  day  in  visiting  those  cities  of  the  dead. 

As  soon  as  we  arrived  in  Naples,  we  secured  the  services 
of  a  "  Valet  de  Place,"  whose  office  it  is  to  go  round  with 
us,  to  act  as  an  interpreter,  as  we  do  not  understand  Italian 
at  all.  He  makes  all  our  arrangements  for  us,  lays  out  plans 
for  sight-seeing,  and  makes  himself  useful  in  various  ways. 
He  speaks  English  very  fluently,  and  is  quite  an  original  in 
his  way.  It  is  whispered  in  our  hotel  that  he  is  a  man  who 
has  seen  better  days,  and  that  there  is  quite  a  romance  con- 


LETTERS.  63 

nected  with  his  early  history,  but  as  he  seems  reserved  on 
the  subject  of  his  own  aflFiiirs,  I  have  not  touched  upon  them 
at  all.  But  enough  of  Francesco,  and  now  to  our  ride  to 
Pompeii.  We  had  a  nice  carriage  and  two  quick  horses, 
and  a  driver,  and  were  gone  all  day,  and  the  whole  expense 
was  but  little  over  two  dollars.  No  more  is  demanded  for  a 
carriage  for  four,  than  though  one  w^ent  alone.  For  in- 
stance, in  taking  a  carriage  to  go  to  any  part  of  the  city,  you 
are  not  charged  by  the  individual,  as  in  our  cities  home, 
but  by  the  distance,  it  thus  CQs;:ing  nc  more  for  four  than  for 
one.  But  another  digression  ?  Well,  pardon  it,  and  I  will 
go  at  once  to  our  ride.  The  country  is  quite  pleasant  be- 
tween Naples  and  Pompeii.  The  distance  is  about  fifteen 
miles.  We  passed  many  fine  villas  surrounded  by  beautiful 
gardens,  making  the  air  sweet  with  the  odor  of  the  rose,  the 
orange  and  the  lemon.  After  the  first  few  miles,  however, 
the  country  was  so  much  covered  with  ashes  and  lava  from 
Vesuvius,  as  to  give  it  rather  a  desolate  and  barren  appear- 
ance. During  the  whole  of  our  ride  we  had  this  mountain 
in  view,  from  which  constantly  arose  clouds  of  smoke  tinged 
with  a  reddish  hue. 

But  how  shall  I  describe  what  I  saw  at  Pompeii,  so  as  to 
give  you  any  conception  of  the  overwhelming  interest  con- 
nected with  such  a  spot?  I  can  hardly  realize  that  I  have 
been  there  myself,  that  my  feet  have  trod  those  streets  which 
once  resounded  with  the  steps  of  busy  men,  but  which  for 
centuries  have  been  hushed  in  the  silence  and  darkness  of 
desolation  and  death. 

I  always  had  an  idea  that  Pompeii  lay  far  beneath  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth,  entirely  shut  out  from  the  light  of  day,  so 
that  in  visiting  it  you  had  to  go  down  into  the  very  bowels 
of  the  earth,  and  wander  by  torchlight  through  subterranean 
passages  and  recesses.  On  the  contrary  the  city,  or  at  least 
that  part  of  it  which  has  been  excavated,  lies  open  to  the 
sky.  Pompeii  was  buried  beneath  the  light  ashes  of  Vesu- 
vius, and  not  under  the  solid  lava,  so  that   the  process  of 


64  LETTERS. 

excavation  was  comparatively  easy.  Only  about  a  third  part 
however  has  yet  been  brought  to  light ;  the  work  is  still 
going  on,  so  that  every  day  some  new  discovery  is  made. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  city  is  a  guard-house,  at  which 
several  government  officers  are  stationed,  and  no  one  is  al- 
lowed to  go  about  the  ruins  without  the  escort  of  one  of  these 
soldiers,  and  he  keeps  the  most  vigilant  watch,  lest  any  one 
should  take  away  some  memento  of  the  place.  I  could  not 
stoop  to  pick  up  a  pebble,  or  even  to  look  closely  at  any  thing, 
without  the  one  with  us  crying  out,  "  take  care,  Madame,  do 
not  touch." 

We  entered  one  of  the  principal  streets  of  the  city  through 
a  ruined  gateway,  at  which  was  found  the  skeleton  of  the 
sentinel  on  duty,  on  whose  head  was  a  helmet  weighing  sixty 
pounds.  Under  the  strict  discipline  of  the  Roman  soldier, 
he  would  not  leave  his  post,  even  when  the  city  was  being 
overwhelmed  with  destruction. 

The  streets  are  paved  with  large  flat  stones,  which  bear 
the  marks  of  wheels,  and  are  so  narrow  as  to  have  admitted 
the  passage  of  but  one  chariot  at  a  time.  On  either  side  is  a 
raised  footwalk,  and  occasionally  a  single  stepping-stone  is 
placed  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  for  passing  from  one  side 
to  the  other. 

The  first  house  we  entered  was  that  of  Diomede,  one  of 
the  most  influential  citizens  of  Pompeii.  Two  stories  of  the 
house  are  standing,  besides  the  cellar  or  arched  passage, 
which  runs  some  ways  beneath  the  house,  and  in  which  were 
found  several  skeletons,  supposed  to  have  been  some  mem- 
bers of  the  family,  attempting  to  escape  from  the  ruin  that 
was  overwhelming  them.  In  the  hand  of  one,  thought  to  be 
Diomede  himself,  was  a  bunch  of  keys,  probably  of  the  wine 
cellar,  and  on  the  arm  of  a  female,  either  the  wife  or  daugh- 
ter of  the  master  of  the  house,  was  a  bracelet  of  gold,  weigh- 
ing a  pound  and  a  half,  and  in  her  hand  a  purse.  In  this 
house  are  many  rooms,  the  most  of  them  small ;  there  are 
bed-chambers,  bathing  rooms   and  dressing-rooms,  looking 


LETTERS.  65 

into  the  garden ;  eating-rooms,  a  drawing-room  and  guest- 
chambers,  and  the  remains  of  several  fountains.  Many  of 
the  rooms  were  floored  with  marble  of  different  colors,  and 
arranged  in  different  forms. 

We  visited  the  remains  of  many  other  houses,  among 
which  was  that  of  Sallust,  which  is  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  perfect  that  has  yet  been  discovered.  On  the  walls  of 
some  of  the  rooms  are  well  preserved  paintings  of  gods,  god- 
desses and  dancing  girls.  In  this  house  were  also  found  some 
skeletons. 

We  also  saw  shops  of  various  kinds  ;  many  were  for  the 
sale  of  oil  and  wine,  the  places  where  the  jars  stood,  and 
even  the  jars  themselves  being  still  seen.  Here  too  were  a 
soap  manufactory,  a  coffee-house,  a  bake-house,  where  were 
found  small  mills  for  grinding  corn,  and  some  loaves  of  bread, 
which  are  now  removed  to  the  Museum. 

After  seeing  many  things,  far  too  numerous  for  me  even 
to  give  the  names  of  them,  we  went  to  the  Forum,  a  large 
open  court  adorned  with  pillars.  On  one  side  are  the  temples 
of  Jupiter  and  of  Venus,  and  the  Basilica,  or  Hail  of  Justice, 
each  ornamented  with  pillars  and  statues.  Beneath  the  Ba- 
silica are  prisons,  which  certainly  were  not  very  inviting, 
though  they  seemed  cool  and  comfortable  to  us,  after  having 
walked  so  far  in  the  hot  sun. 

Nor  must  I  forget  to  mention  the  large  public  bathing 
house  that  we  visited.  Here  the  rooms  had  double  walls, 
with  a  space  between  them,  into  which  steam  ascended  from 
some  sort  of  apparatus  in  the  cellar,  and  came  into  the  rooms 
from  openings  in  the  inner  wall.  This  certainly  is  not  fiir 
removed  from  our  present  fashion  of  heating  houses  with  hot 
air. 

*'  Last,  but  by  no  means  least,"  Vv'e  went  to  see  the  Am- 
phitheatre, which  stands  without  the  walls.  This  was  a 
spacious  edifice,  calculated  to  seat  between  twenty  and  thirty 
thousand  persons.  It  is  of  an  oval  form,  open  at  the  top, 
and  has  thirty  rows  of  seats  ascending  from  the  arena,  one 
6* 


66  LETTERS. 

above  another,  to  the  very  top.  At  opposite  sides  of  the  arena 
are  openings  by  which  the  wild  beasts  formerly  entered ; 
these  were  strongly  guarded  by  gates,  which  are  not  standing 
at  present,  but  the  holes  made  for  the  hinges  and  bolts  are 
still  seen.  It  detracts  very  much  from  the  effect  of  these 
buildings  thus  rescued  from  oblivion,  that  nearly  all  the  rich 
ornaments,  marble,  furniture  and  paintings  found  in  them, 
have  been  carried  to  the  Museum.  They  would  be  seen  to 
much  better  advantage,  if  left  in  the  places  where  they  were 
originally  found,  and  government  is  beginning  to  think  the 
same  thing,  for  it  has  ordered  that  nothing  that  is  now 
brought  to  light,  shall  be  moved  from  the  spot,  which  will 
certainly  add  much  to  the  interest  of  Pompeii. 

1  would,  dear  friend,  that  I  had  the  power  to  give  you  a 
better  and  more  connected  description  of  this  interesting 
city,  but  I  have  neither  time  nor  ability  to  say  more.  Wearied 
nature  demands  repose,  and  I  have  already  trespassed  on 
those  hours  which  ought  to  be  given  to  rest,  and  yet  the  half 
has  not  been  said.  Pompeii  is  a  fit  place  for  meditation,  as 
one  wanders  through  those  deserted  houses  and  temples, 
among  shattered  pillars  and  broken  statues  and  ruined  arch- 
es, and  through  silent  gardens  and  courts,  where  once  were 
the  soft  music  of  gushing  waters,  and  the  rich  odors  of  costly 
plants.  A  melancholy  awe  pervaded  our  souls,  and  we  felt 
that  we  were  treading  the  places  of  the  dead,  solemn,  still 
and  grand.  I  could  not  but  think  of  the  suddenness  with 
which  this  gloom  came  upon  the  devoted  city.  How  little 
thought  the  inhabitants,  plunged  in  luxury,  gaiety  and  li- 
centiousness, of  the  doom  that  awaited  them !  How  little 
that  they  would  lie  entombed  for  nearly  two  thousand  years, 
and  then  that  their  ruined  homes  would  be  visited  by  the 
people  of  a  country  of  which  they  had  never  even  dreamed ! 

On  our  return,  we  stopped  at  a  little  distance  from  Pompeii, 
to  see  a  mineral  spring  which  comes  from  Vesuvius.  We 
descended  a  hill  where  the  lava  was  from  twenty  to  fifty  feet 
deep.     Out  of  this  bed  of  lava  rushes  the  spring.     It  comes 


LETTERS.  67 

bubbling  up,  is  quite  warm,  and  is  strongly  impregnated  with 
sulphur. 

Just  before  we  got  to  Portici,  we  stopped  to  see  the  re- 
mains of  Herculaneum.  This,  instead  of  being  buried  under 
ashes  as  Pompeii  was,  was  covered  with  melted  lava,  which 
when  cool,  became  solid  rock.  Hence  the  difficulty  of  ex- 
cavating the  city.  Besides,  the  town  of  Portici  is  built  over 
it,  so  that  probably  it  will  never  be  entirely  brought  to  light. 
A  part  of  a  theatre  only  has  been  excavated.  It  lies  seventy- 
nine  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth.  We  descended  by 
the  light  of  torches,  a  long  flight  t)f  stone  stairs  dripping 
with  moisture.  It  was  really  a  curious  sight,  to  see  us 
threading  our  way  among  solid  masses  of  lava,  over  broken 
pillars  and  statues,  with  our  torches  glimmering  here  and 
there  in  the  intense  darkness.  The  statues  that  were  found 
here  have  been  removed  to  the  Museum,  so  we  had  to  fancy 
how  it  looked  when  first  discovered.  All  that  we  could  see 
was  the  bare  walls,  the  stage  and  orchestra,  and  a  portion  of 
the  pit  and  some  of  the  boxes. 

To-morrow  we  go  to  the  Museum,  where  are  deposited 
the  objects  of  curiosity  and  interest  which  were  found  in 
these  buried  cities;  so  look  out  for  another  letter  soon.  And' 
now  good  night. 


Naples,  Wednesday. 

And  now,  dear  friend,  for  the  Museum.  Pray  give  your 
most  earnest  attention,  while  I  tell  you  of  some  of  the  things 
which  I  saw  there.  Do  not  think  that  I  am  going  to  inflict 
upon  you  a  tiresome  catalogue  of  the  objects  of  curiosity 
there  collected.  I  shall  only  mention  in  a  general  and  dis- 
connected manner,  some  things  that  particularly  attracted 
our  notice.  And  first,  we  went  into  a  hall  filled  with  mosaics 
found  in  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum.     Mosaic  painting,  you 


68  LETTERS. 

know,  is  done  by  putting  stones  or  pieces  of  a  kind  of  glass 
so  nicely  together,  that  the  whole  forms  a  picture,  and  thus 
at  a  little  distance,  the  separate  parts  cannot  be  perceived. 
These  mosaics  were  portions  of  walls  and  floors,  and  were  in 
such  a  fine  state  of  preservation,  that  I  could  hardly  imagine 
they  had  been  buried  so  long  in  the  earth. 

Then  came  the  gallery  of  ancient  sculpture,  and  there  we 
were  surrounded  by  Jupiter,  Minerva,  Mars,  Mercury,  Ve- 
nus, Cupid,  Bacchus,  Apollo,  nymphs,  fawns,  heroes  and 
heroines  of  antiquity  without  number.  Here,  too,  were 
busts  and  statues  of  the  wise  and  great  of  generations  long 
since  passed  away  —  Aurelius,  Tiberius,  Trajan,  Probus, 
Pyrrhus,  Caesar,  Cicero,  Socrates,  Demosthenes,  Homer,  that 
*'  blind  old  bard  of  Scio's  rocky  isle,"  Lycurgus,  Solon, 
Aristides,  Herodotus,  and  I  cannot  tell  how  many,  many 
more. 

Then  there  were  the  most  splendid  vases  and  basins  of 
marble  and  porphyry,  many  of  them  ornamented  with  elegant 
bas-reliefs,  pillars  and  columns  of  rare  marbles;  in  short, 
many  volumes  would  not  contain  a  description  of  the  various 
things  I  there  saw.  In  another  room  were  bronze  statues, 
and  I  was  surprised  to  see  how  many  of  these  were  of  danc- 
ino-  girls  and  actresses.  Many  of  the  finest  statues  and  busts 
were  found  in  the  theatres. 

We  then  went  up  stairs,  where  were  some  beautiful  mosaic 
tables,  lamps,  candelabras,  drinking  cups,  &c.,  all  found  at 
Pompeii.  Some  of  the  lamps,  particularly  those  suspended 
from  the  ceiling,  were  in  the  shape  of  birds,  the  flame  to 
proceed  from  the  mouth ;  these  were  mostly  of  bronze,  but 
the  others  were  generally  of  stone  and  were  very  small. 
Here  too  was  all  the  paraphernalia  of  an  apothecary's  shop, 
some  of  the  jars  even  now  containing  medicines  in  them. 
Nor  must  I  forget  to  add  the  bodies  taken  from  the  ruins, 
which,  although  black  and  dried,  were  in  a  good  state  of 
preservation. 

We  saw  the  rolls  of  papyrus  also  found  in  Pompeii,  which 


LETTERS.  69 

SO  much  resembled  charcoal,  that  they  were  for  a  long  time 
mistaken  for  it,  till  the  exact  order  in  which  they  were  plac- 
ed, excited  curiosity,  and  then  it  was  discovered  what  they 
really  were.  We  saw  the  process  of  unrolling  them,  so  that 
they  may  be  copied,  and  thus  the  records  of  past  ages,  which 
have  so  long  been  buried  in  oblivion,  are  brought  to  light. 

From  this  room  we  passed  into  another,  called  "  the  cabi- 
net of  gems,"  and  "  gems  "  indeed,  they  seemed  to  our  eyes 
unaccustomed  to  behold  so  magnificent  a  display.  There 
were  rings,  some  large  and  massy,  chains,  necklaces,  ear- 
rings, brooches,  bracelets,  among  which  was  that  found  on 
the  arm  of  Diomede's  wife,  and  the  purse  in  her  hand,  a 
small  deer  made  of  gold,  pins  and  bodkins  of  gold,  together 
with  silver  cups,  plates,  dishes,  salvers,  vases  and  spoons,  a 
large  cup  of  sardonyx  set  in  gold,  and  hundreds  of  precious 
stones. 

But  a  still  greater  curiosity  to  us,  were  two  loaves  of  bread, 
some  dough,  a  large  piece  of  honeycomb,  several  kinds  of 
grain,  dates,  prunes,  raisins,  pears  and  eggs ;  these  all,  ex- 
cepting the  eggs,  were  black  as  jet,  but  in  form  were  still 
perfect.  Here  too  were  pieces  of  cloth,  some  of  which 
were  found  in  the  washing  vessels ;  some  nets,  perfectly  black ; 
flasks  for  wine  and  oil,  some  of  which  still  remain  in  the 
flasks ;  and  a  jar,  in  which  were  olives  in  a  perfect  state  of 
preservation.  These  certainly  were  interesting  remains,  not 
so  much  in  themselves,  as  from  the  circumstance  that  they 
were  nearly  two  thousand  years  old.  On  an  elegant  mosaic 
table  was  a  portable  stove,  where  were  places  for  the  fuel, 
water,  and  articles  to  be  cooked.  Then  there  were  sauce- 
pans, kettles,  frying  pans,  soma  of  which  were  hollowed  out 
in  places  just  the  size  of  an  egg,  and  all  the  et  ceteras  of  a 
kitchen  establishment,  musical  instruments,  bells  for  cattle, 
and  toilet  furniture,  among  which  were  combs,  pins,  boxes 
for  paints,  essences  and  rouge,  some  of  which  are  still  pre- 
served. 

In  another  room  were  models  of  ancient  tombs,  in  each  of 


79  LETTERS. 

which  were  a  skeleton,  vases,  lamps,  incense  bottles,  and  a 
piece  of  money  in  the  mouth  of  each  body  to  pay  the  ferry- 
man for  carrying  him  over  the  Styx.  These  surely  serve  to 
explain  the  belief  and  customs  of  the  ancients  in  relation  to 
the  dead.  As  we  came  out  we  just  looked  into  the  Library, 
which  contains  about  two  hundred  thousand  volumes,  in  one 
of  the  rooms  of  which  was  the  most  astonishing  echo  I  ever 
heard,  the  reverberations  being  thirty-two  in  number. 

And  thus  ends  the  record  of  this  day's  sight-seeing,  and  I 
think  you  will  certainly  agree  with  me,  that  we  have  seen 
quite  enough  for  one  day,  and  that  I  must  be  sufficiently 
tired  by  this  time  to  lay  aside  my  pen.     So  now  adieu. 


Naples,  Thursday. 

"  What,"  do  you  say,  *'  another  letter  ? "  Really  so  many 
objects  of  attention  come  before  us,  that  unless  I  write  every 
evening,  my  letters  would  be  as  long  as  an  old  sailor's  yarns. 
We  have  been  on  the  "  qui  vive  "  to-day,  I  can  assure  you, 
having  taken  a  most  delightful  excursion  to  Baiae,  and  its 
environs.  We  started  quite  early  this  morning,  for  you  may 
well  know  that  we  have  to  be  up  in  season  to  accomplish  so 
much  in  a  day. 

No  sooner  had  we  left  the  city  than  we  plunged  into  a 
dark  grotto,  or  subterranean  road,  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock, 
called  the  Grotto  of  Posilippo.  It  is  two  thousand  three 
hundred  and  sixteen  feet  long,  twenty-two  wide,  and  rises  to 
an  unequal  height,  sometimes  extending  upwards  of  eighty 
feet  above  us.  Though  lamps  were  burning  at  intervals,  it 
was  extremely  dark.  The  air  was  cold  and  damp,  and  it 
seemed  indeed  as  though  we  were  in  the  deepest  recesses  of 
the  earth,  whereas  we  were  a  little  above  the  level  of  the 
streets  of  Naples.  A  high  hill,  or,  more  properly  speaking, 
mountain,  was  over  our  heads. 


LETTERS.  71 

Our  road  then  lay  through  fields  planted  with  trees,  with 
the  vine  stretching  in  luxuriant  growth  between  them  in 
every  direction.  Through  these  we  often  caught  glimpses 
of  the  sea,  and  finally  came  in  full  sight  of  it,  so  that  we 
had  a  magnificent  view  of  the  bay,  with  its  mountainous 
sides  and  rocky  islands;  on  one  of  which  is  the  Lazzaretto, 
and  on  another,  a  hotel  and  a  bathing  house,  where  the  Nea- 
politans resort  in  great  numbers  in  the  summer  season. 

Near  Puteoli,  we  visited  the  sulphur  manufactory,  all  the 
operations  of  which  are  carried  on  in  the  open  air.  Here 
the  odor  was  intolerable,  and  terrible  were  the  coughing  and 
sneezing,  the  hemming  and  spitting,  that  were  heard  from 
our  party.  How  the  workmen  stand  it,  is  more  than  I  can 
can  tell.  From  openings  in  the  earth,  issue  streams  of  sul- 
phurous vapor,  over  which  water  is  kept  boiling  till  it  be- 
comes saturated  with  the  sulphur.  It  then  passes  through 
clay,  and  thus  becomes  separated  from  the  sulphur,  which  is 
boiled  down,  refined,  and  put  up  in  jars  and  sent  away. 
While  we  were  looking  on,  one  of  the  workmen  took  up  a 
large  stone  and  throw  it  violently  upon  the  ground,  which 
produced  that  reverberating  sound  that  plainly  showed  it 
was  hollow  beneath. 

We  then  went  to  see  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  amphitheatre, 
built  in  the  time  of  Caligula,  but  long  since  buried  by  an 
earthquake.  Workmen  are  now  engaged  in  excavating  it, 
and  enough  is  already  seen  to  show  the  immensity  of  the 
building.  It  is  very  similar  to  the  one  we  saw  in  Pompeii, 
only  it  is  nearly  twice  as  large.  It  is  really  wonderful  to 
see  the  destruction  here  produced  by  earthquakes  and  erup- 
tions. Here  in  a  small  town  is  this  enormous  structure. 
W^here,  now,  are  the  remains  of  the  former  grandeur  of  this 
place,  once  the  centre  of  Roman  magnificence  and  splendor  ? 
The  earth  has  opened  her  mouth  and  swallowed  them  up  ! 
Where  are  now  the  thousands  that  once  assembled  in  this 
building  ?  I  looked  around  on  its  desolate  walls,  its  ruined 
pillars,  its  broken  statues,  its  deserted  seats,  and  echo  seem- 
ed to  answer,  "  Where?  " 


72  LETTERS. 

All  around  this  amphitheatre  are  the  ruins  of  houses,  thus 
showing  that  this  was  once  a  place  of  great  size  and  impor- 
tance.    Oh,  time  !  how  great  are  thy  changes  ! 

Here  too  are  the  remains  of  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Sera- 
pis,  an  immense  edifice,  supposed  to  have  been  built  in  the 
sixth  century  of  Rome,  but  partly  thrown  down,  and  com- 
pletely buried  by  an  earthquake.  It  was  accidentally  discov- 
ered in  1750  by  a  peasant,  who  found  the  top  of  one  of  the 
columns.  Excavations  were  immediately  conmienced,  and 
the  temple  was  found  almost  entire,  but  the  columns  and 
statues  have  nearly  all  been  removed,  and  it  now  stands  a  com- 
plete ruin.  Enough  however  remains  to  show  its  former  mag- 
nificence ;  three  columns  are  left  entire,  while  over  the  floor 
of  marble,  lie  scattered  pieces  of  pillars,  capitals  and  sculp- 
ture, which  serve  as  stepping-stones  from  one  side  to  another, 
the  whole  floor  being  covered  by  water  from  the  sea.  In 
this  temple  is  a  number  of  small  apartments,  which,  together 
with  the  fact  of  springs  of  boiling  water  being  found  in  the 
neighborhood,  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  the  sick  and  infirm 
were  brought  here  to  be  restored  by  the  sacred  waters. 

Puteoli  is  now  a  small  and  dirty  town,  having  nothing  in- 
teresting about  it  save  these  ruins,  and  the  fact  of  its  having 
been  the  place  where  St.  Paul  first  landed  in  Italy,  when  as 
he  was  on  his  way  to  Rome  "  he  came  to  Puteoli,  where  he 
found  brethren  who  desired  him  to  tarry  with  them  seven 
days." 

We  rode  along  for  some  distance  till  we  came  to  the  Lu- 
crine  Lake,  a  pretty  little  sheet  of  water,  with  a  white  house 
and  chapel  on  its  borders.  Here  we  left  the  carriage,  and 
walked  along  a  hot,  sandy  path  for  nearly  a  mile,  till  we 
came  suddenly  upon  Lake  Avernus,  fairly  embosomed  among 
the  mountains.  This  is  the  Tartarus  of  Virgil,  though  it 
seems  to  have  no  claim  at  present  to  that  name,  for  it  is  really 
most  beautiful.  The  mountains  slope  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  thus  rendering  true  Virgil's  description,  that  it  was 
easy  to  descend  to  Lake  Avernus,  but  somewhat  of  a  task  to 


LETTERS.  73 

get  back  again.  This  lake  is  said  to  be  four  hundred  feet 
deep.  After  walking  along  the  bank  of  the  lake  for  some 
distan^ce,  we  turned  into  a  cool,  shady  grove,  and  soon  came 
to  the  entrance  of  the  "  Grotto  of  the  Sybil."  Here  we 
took  three  guides  and  two  large  torches,  and  descended  to 
the  bowels  of  the  earth.  After  walking  for  some  time  in  this 
arched  grotto,  we  came  to  the  river  Styx.  Here  we  mounted 
"  a  la  mode"  pig,  on  the  backs  of  our  guides,  who  were  up  to 
their  waists  in  water.  Mr.  D.,  who,  by  the  way,  was  exalted 
by  them  to  the  dignity  of  "  my  Lord  Anglais,"  went  first 
on  the  back  of  the  man  who  carried  a  torch,  I  after  him, 
while  J.  brought  up  the  rear.  Francesco  stayed  behind,  to 
keep  watch  over  our  books  and  basket  of  provisions.  At 
first  I  was  quite  frightened  at  riding  in  that  fashion,  as  I  had 
not  practised  it  since  I  was  quite  a  child,  but  soon  the  amus- 
ing sight  we  presented  so  struck  me,  that  I  made  the  cavern 
resound  with  my  laughter.  Mr.  D.,  who  is  quite  a  large 
man,  was  on  the  back  of  the  very  smallest  man  of  the  whole, 
and  he  made  me  think,  as  I  saw  him  by  the  dim  light,  of  the 
enormous  bundles  I  had  seen  on  the  back  of  a  little  donkey. 
We  thus  walked,  or  rather  rode  (for,  I  believe,  "  pig  back" 
has  from  time  immemorial  been  dignified  with  the  title  of 
riding,)  for  some  time  to  my  infinite  diversion.  We  were 
several  times  set  down,  not  in  the  water  however,  but  on 
the  stones  around  the  baths,  which  are  said  to  have  been  used 
as  a  bed  by  the  Sybil  after  bathing.  Whether  a  bed  or  not, 
this  raised  platform  was  about  the  size  of  a  bed,  with  a  stone 
like  a  pillow  at  the  head.  Rather  a  cool  and  a  hard  bed  I 
should  imagine.  We  stopped  to  examine  several  secret  cham- 
bers, said  to  have  been  built  by  Nero.  After  wading  about 
some  time,  we  came  to  "  terra  firma,"  and  dismounted  from 
the  backs  of  our  guides  quite  satisfied  with  that  kind  of  trav- 
elling. This  grotto  is  a  curious  sight,  and  certainly  a  ro 
mantic  place;  for,  in  groping  through  dark  passages,  lighted 
only  by  a  flashing  torch,  and  mounting  on  the  backs  of  men, 
7 


74  LETTERS. 

and  thus  wading   through  the    water,  I  think  there   is  quite 
romance  enough. 

After  leaving  the  grotto,  we  walked  back  to  the  carriage, 
and  then  rode  round  Lake  Lucrine,  where  we  once  more  left 
our  carriage,  climbed  a  little  way  up  the  mountain,  and  en- 
tered its  side,  and  stood  within  a  large  cavern.  From  this 
there  was  a  passage  leading  directly  into  the  mountain,  to  a 
hot,  boiling  spring.  We  were  told  that  the  water  of  this 
spring  was  hot  enough  to  boil  eggs,  but  Mr.  D.  and  J.  being 
anxious  to  satisfy  themselves  as  to  the  truth  of  this,  followed 
the  guide  through  the  dark  passage  leading  to  the  spring,  but 
it  was  so  warm,  I  would  not  venture,  neither  indeed  did  I 
dare  to,  as  it  is  not  considered  safe  unless  alJ  the  clothes  can  be 
changed  after  coming  out.  Indeed,  so  intolerably  hot  did  they 
find  it,  they  would  have  turned  back  before  reaching  it,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  many  by-passages  that  diverge  from  the  main 
passage,  and  the  idea  of  losing  their  way  was  so  unpleasant, 
they  persevered  in  the  attempt,  and  came  back  dripping  with 
perspiration.  The  man  took  in  with  him  two  eggs  in  a  little 
pail,  which  he  filled  with  the  water,  and  soon  after  he  came 
back,  the  eggs  were  taken  out  well  boiled.  The  whole 
range  of  mountains  around  Naples  seems  to  be  of  a  volcanic 
nature,  and  this  spring,  so  far  distant  from  Vesuvius,  is 
doubtless  fed  by  the  same  fires  that  there  ceaselessly  burn. 

We  then  rode  on  to  Baiae.  This  town  was  once  one  of 
the  most  celebrated  in  Italy,  as  a  place  of  resort  for  the 
higher  classes  among  the  Romans.  It  is  now  strown  with 
ruins,  the  principal  of  which  are  temples  of  Venus, 
Diana,  Jupiter  and  Mercury ;  the  last  only  we  examined. 
It  is  a  circular  edifice,  surmounted  by  a  dome,  having  an 
opening  in  the  top,  and  is  in  a  very  good  state  of  preserva- 
tion. Here  is  one  of  the  finest  echoes  I  ever  heard ;  the 
clapping  of  hands  was  like  distant  thunder,  and  a  stone 
thrown  violently  on  the  ground  seemed  like  the  reverbera- 
tions of  cannon  among  the  hills.  Here  too  was  a  sort  of 
whispering  gallery.     J.  stood  on  one  side  with  his  mouth  to 


LETTERS.  75 

an  aperture  in  the  wall,  and  I  at  the  opposite  side,  nearly  one 
hundred  feet  from  him,  with  my  ear  to  a  similar  aperture. 
He  then  whispered  a  few  words,  which  I  heard  as  distinctly 
as  though  I  stood  close  by  him. 

We  rode  on  a  little  way  beyond  Baiae,  and  had  a  beautiful 
view  of  the  country  around.  Here,  separated  by  a  narrow 
strip  of  land  from  the  sea,  is  a  sort  of  lake  called  "  the  Dead 
Sea,"  or,  according  to  Virgil,  the  "  Stygian  Lake."  In  this 
neighborhood  too  were  the  Elysian  fields  of  the  same  poet, 
and  surely  never  was  a  country  seen  more  beautiful,  nor  any 
more  worthy  of  being  called  Elysian.  The  green  and  lofty 
mountains,  the  fertile  vales  covered  with  the  vine,  the  fig  tree 
and  the  olive,  seen  beneath  a  cloudless  sky,  formed  a  lovely 
picture,  worthy  of  the  pen  of  the  poet,  or  the  pencil  of  the 
painter. 

Our  ride  home  was  most  delightful,  having  the  sea  almost 
constantly  in  view ;  the  sun  was  far  down  toward  the  horizon, 
and  the  country  was  charming,  mountains  and  vineyards 
being  all  around  us.  Instead  of  coming  home  through  the 
grottoof  Posilippo,  we  ascended  the  mountain  over  it,  by  the 
road  called  Napoleon's  road,  which  was  constructed  by  Murat 
when  he  was  king  of  Naples.  It  is  a  magnificent  road,  wind- 
ing round  the  side  of  the  mountain.  Beneath  us,  as  we 
ascended,  was  the  fertile  country  through  which  we  had  been 
riding,  seeming  like  a  garden  at  our  feet,  and  as  we  came 
down  on  the  other  side,  we  had  a  fine  view  of  Naples,  its 
bay,  the  splendid  villas  dotting  the  shore,  and  old  Vesuvius 
sending  forth  huge  columns  of  smoke. 

We  got  back  about  half  past  six,  feeling  but  little  fatigued 
and  quite  satisfied  with  our  day's  work ;  we  dined  at  seven, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  evening  I  have  spent  in  writing  to 
you.  So  you  see,  every  moment  of  the  day  has  been 
occupied  ;  and  now  I  leave  you  awhile. 


76  LETTERS. 


Naples,  Saturday  evening. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Yesterday  and  to-day,  we  have  been  busy  in  looking 
around  Naples  and  its  immediate  environs,  and  having  a  lit- 
tle leisure  this  evening,  I  hasten  to  give  you  an  account  of 
**  what  I  saw."  We  went  yesterday  morning  to  the  Church 
of  San  Francesco.  In  this  land,  where  so  much  of  splendor 
and  wealth,  and  the  most  beautiful  productions  of  art  are 
collected  in  the  churches,  they  are  of  course  among  the 
first  objects  visited  by  strangers.  You  can  generally  gain 
admission  at  any  hour  of  the  day,  but  if  you  go  at  the  time 
of  morning  or  evening  service,  and  just  look  about  you  with- 
out requiring  the  attention  of  a  guide,  it  costs  you  nothing, 
but  if  you  go  at  any  other  hour  you  are  obliged  to  pay  the 
customary  fee. 

The  Church  of  San  Francesco  is  quite  new,  and  is,  what 
in  Yankee  land  we  would  call  "  a  splendid  affair."  It  is  of 
a  circular  form,  and  is  surmounted  by  a  dome,  around  the 
interior  of  which  runs  a  gallery  supported  by  thirty-three 
large  pillars  of  light  colored  marble.  At  regular  distances 
between  the  pillars  are  statues  of  the  four  Evangelists,  and 
of  four  of  the  ancient  Fathers,  Chrysostom,  Athanasius, 
Ambrose,  and  Augustine.  The  altar  is  composed  of  the 
choicest  marbles,  porphyry,  jasper,  and  lapis-lazuli ;  this  last 
is  a  precious  stone  of  the  most  beautiful  blue  color.  The 
floor  is  of  marble,  a  large  circular  piece  being  in  the  centre, 
from  which  diverge  lines  of  different  colored  marbles.  Di- 
rectly opposite  to  the  church  is  the  royal  palace. 

We  then  went  to  the  Chapel  of  St.  Severo,  which  is  now 
very  small,  having  been  nearly  destroyed  by  an  earthquake. 
Though  so  small,  it  is  very  rich,  the  interior  being  filled  with 
the  finest  sculpture.  Here  the  family  of  the  Princes  of  San- 
crro  are  buried,  each  tomb  being  ornamented  with  beautiful 
figures,  those  of  the  females  having  a  statue  representing  the 
principal  virtue  of  the  lady  in  the  tomb.     One   represents 


LETTERS.  77 

modesty,  and  is  covered  with  a  veil  of  white  marble,  through 
which  the  features  and  form  are  perfectly  seen.  It  is  one  of 
the  rarest  works  of  art  in  existence.  Another  represents 
vice  undeceived.  A  man  is  caught  in  a  net,  from  which  he 
is  endeavoring  to  extricate  himself.  The  color  and  material 
of  the  net  are  so  well  imitated,  that  when  J.  first  caught  a 
glimpse  of  it,  he  said,  "  what  is  that  net  thrown  there  for  ?" 
It  is  all  cut  from  one  piece  of  marble. 

But  the  most  touchinor  of  all  is  the  fiorure  of  Christ  in  the 
tomb,  covered  with  a  veil  supposed  to  J)e  dampened  by  the 
dews  of  death.  I  could  hardly  realize  the  drapery  was  of 
marble,  so  easy  and  graceful  were  the  folds.  The  border  was 
sculptured  to  imitate  embroidery  and  was  of  a  most  perfect 
finish.  By  the  side  of  the  body  lay  the  crown  of  thorns,  the 
nails  and  the  pincers,  all  cut  from  one  block  of  marble.  I 
never  saw  any  thing  so  beautiful  as  this  statue.  Again  and 
again  we  returned  to  look  upon  it,  that  it  might  be  deeply 
fixed  in  our  memory.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  not  dwell  long 
enough  upon  the  still,  calm  features  of  Christ,  for  even  while 
I  looked,  the  vision  seemed  so  little  like  earth,  I  feared  it 
would  be  snatched  from  my  longing  eyes.  These  three 
statues  are  considered  as  master-pieces  of  genius,  as  neither 
the  ancient  Greeks  nor  Romans  ever  seem  to  have  attempted 
showing  the  face  and  form  through  a  veil. 

We  next  visited  the  church  of  San  Gennaro,  the  patron 
saint  of  Naples,  where  his  remains  now  repose.  It  is  said 
some  of  his  blood  is  here  kept,  which  liquefies  twice  or  three 
times  a  year,  when  crowds  attend  to  witness  the  ceremony. 
If  there  is  any  hindrance  in  the  performance  of  the  miracle, 
the  multitudes  in  the  church  testify  their  impatience  by 
groans  and  cries,  but  as  soon  as  it  is  announced  to  be  com- 
pleted, shouts  rend  the  air,  as  them  prosperity  is  predicted. 
I  looked  earnestly  in  the  face  of  the  priest  who  was  telling 
us  of  the  various  miracles  performed  by  the  Saint,  to  see  if 
he  seemed  to  believe  it,  but  he  spoke  as  though  not  a  shadow 
of  doubt  had  ever  crossed  his  mind.  We  were  told  that 
7* 


78  LETTERS. 

when  Napoleon  was  here,  he  visited  this  church,  and  as  he 
was  anxious  to  see  this  miracle,  he  commanded  the  priests  to 
cause  the  blood  to  be  liquefied.  In  vain  they  told  him  it 
was  impossible  except  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year.  The 
misrhty  conqueror  was  not  thus  to  be  baffled ;  he  grew  an- 
gry and  threatened  if  it  was  not  soon  done  to  liquefy  their 
blood,  so  with  trembling  but  with  no  more  hesitation  they 
performed  the  miracle,  probably  by  the  use  of  some  chemical 
means. 

In  this  church  are  thirty-six  busts  of  solid  silver,  which 
cost  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  No 
wonder  that  when  a  revolution  takes  place,  the  churches  are 
first  demolished,  for  there  the  greatest  riches  and  prizes  are 
found. 

As  we  left  this  church  we  had  six  beggars  around  us,  all 
looking  pitiable  enough.  What  a  contrast  to  the  silver  and 
gold,  and  precious  stones  within  the  church  !  When  I  look 
around  this  beautiful  land,  this  land  of  mountains  and  vales, 
of  wine  and  of  oil,  of  the  fig  and  the  orange,  when  I  see  all 
nature  so  luxuriant,  and  then  turn  my  eyes  on  the  filth,  the 
squalid  wretchedness  and  poverty  which  meet  me  wherever  I 
go,  my  heart  sickens  within  me,  and  I  cannot  help  exclaim- 
ing, "  these  things  ought  not  so  to  be." 

Constantly  meeting,  as  we  do  so  many  priests,  I  had  the 
curiosity  yesterday  to  attempt  to  count  them,  and  in  the 
course  of  two  hours'  drive  through  the  city,  we  met  two 
hundred  and  twenty-nine.  The  most  of  the  time  I  could 
see  but  one  side  of  the  street,  and  I  did  not  reckon  at  all 
those  we  saw  in  the  churches,  where  at  least  were  fifty  more. 
They  all  wear  a  black  robe,  and  a  broad-brimmed  hat  turned 
Tip  at  the  sides,  so  they  are  easily  distinguished  from  other 
classes  of  citizens.  Francesco  told  us  that  if  a  gentleman 
had  a  number  of  sons,  the  oldest  took  his  father's  property, 
one  became  a  soldier,  and  another  a  priest,  and  thus  hun- 
dreds of  priests  are  supported  by  the  people,  already  burden- 
ed to  oppression  by  taxes. 


LETTERS.  7"9 

In  the  evening  we  took  a  walk  in  the  king's  garden  which 
is  in  front  of  our  hotel,  and  lies  between  the  street  and  the 
bay.  It  is  handsomely  laid  out  with  fine  trees,  and  hedges, 
and  winding  walks,  and  has  a  large  fountain,  and  several 
statues  in  different  parts  of  it.  There  are  also  two  little  tem- 
ples, their  white  pillars  peeping  out  through  the  trees.  On 
our  left  was  the  beautiful  bay  of  Naples,  from  which  came 
a  soft  and  genial  breeze.  We  walked  through  the  whole 
length  of  the  garden,  which  extends  about  half  a  mile,  and 
then  returned  through  the  street  to  our  hotel.  This  is  one 
of  the  principal  streets  of  the  city  ;  it  was  not  very  brilliantly 
lit  up,  neither  was  there  any  great  display  in  the  shops.  In- 
deed, I  think  there  are  but  few  handsome  shops  in  the  city. 

This  morning  we  went  quite  early  to  the  market.  Here 
was  a  busy  scene  indeed.  The  street  was  thronged  with 
people,  come  either  to  buy  or  sell.  We  saw  the  nicest  cher- 
ries and  strawberries,  and  they  are  sold  very  cheap  too.  We 
bought  three  or  four  quarts  of  cherries  for  about  six  cents. 
There  were  all  sorts  of  accommodations^for  the  eating  pub- 
lic to  be  seen  around  the  market,  which,  by  the  way,  is  not 
in  a  house  as  with  us,  but  in  the  street.  We  saw  miniature 
cook  shops,  where  ever  so  small  a  piece  of  meat  might  be 
bought  already  cooked,  and  little  boys  were  constantly  going 
round  with  tea  and  coffee,  which  they  sold  by  the  cup  full. 
The  streets  resounded  with  cries,  some  of  them  the  strangest 
noises  I  ever  heard.  Those  that  had  the  least  to  sell,  I  veri- 
ly believe,  cried  the  loudest,  and  uttered  the  most  discordant 
notes.  In  short,  it  was  a  scene  of  bustle  and  activity,  and 
as  presenting  a  living  picture  of  human  nature,  was  full  of 
interest.  It  had  however  one  drawback ;  the  streets  were 
so  dirty  that  in  some  places  they  seemed  almost  impassable 
for  persons  having  on  clothes  any  where  approaching  to 
clean. 

After  breakfast  we  visited  the  castle  St.  Elmo,  which 
stands  on  a  high  hill  just  out  of  Naples.  Here  we  had  a 
magnificent  view  of  the  country  for  miles  around,  and  of  a 


80  LETTERS. 

part  of  the  city ;  the  other  side  I  was  not  permitted  to  see, 
as  you  go  within  a  monastery,  to  get  the  view,  and  the  Pope 
has  decreed  that  no  female  shall  go  within  the  walls  of  a 
monastery,  so  I  was  kept  out  while  the  more  favored  sex  had 
a  view,  which  they  pronounced  delightful.  We  then  de- 
scended by  a  circuitous  route  to  the  tomb  of  Virgil,  which 
is  on  the  hill  immediately  over  the  grotto  of  Posilippo,  and 
commands  a  fine  view  of  the  harbor  and  that  part  of  the  city 
adjacent  to  it.  The  tomb  is  nearly  circular,  and  has  ten 
niches  in  which  were  formerly  cinerary  urns,  now  no  longer 
to  be  seen. 

We  passed  through  the  grotto  of  Posilippo,  and  after  a 
short  ride  came  to  the  lake  of  Agnano,  situated  in  the  midst 
of  the  most  delightful  scenery.  It  is  almost  surrounded  by 
mountains  covered  with  trees  and  shrubs,  now  clothed  with 
the  most  beautiful  verdure.  This  lake  (supposed  by  some  to 
have  been  the  crater  of  a  volcano)  and  all  the  surrounding 
country,  belong  to  the  king  of  Naples,  and  constitute  his 
fishing  and  hunting  grounds.  There  is  a  beautiful  little 
lodge  in  the  form  of  a  chapel,  built  by  a  brother  of  the  king. 
From  the  roof  of  this  little  temple  we  had  a  charming  view 
of  the  lake  and  the  country  around  it. 

But  the  greatest  curiosity  is  the  Grotto  del  Cane,  where 
the  air  is  so  strongly  impregnated  with  carbonic  acid  gas, 
that  it  is  dangerous  to  remain  there  a  long  time.  We  went 
in  and  bent  down  our  heads  within  two  feet  of  the  ground, 
where  the  air  came  up  like  the  gas  that  escapes  from  cham- 
pagne, when  it  is  first  uncorked.  A  dog  was  carried  in  and 
laid  on  the  ground,  when  it  almost  instantly  seemed  as 
though  it  were  dying.  Its  breath  came  shorter  and  shorter, 
its  limbs  were  convulsed,  its  mouth  was  covered  with  froth, 
and  I  suppose  a  few  moments  more  would  have  terminated 
its  existence,  and  doubtless  the  same  eifect  would  be  pro- 
duced on  any  individual  who  would  stay  there  long  enough. 
But  the  dog  was  brought  out  and  laid  on  the  ground,  and 
soon  began  to  revive,   and  then   it  breathed  like   a  person 


LETTERS.  81 

coming  out  of  a  f\iinting  fit.  After  that  it  ran  around,  rub- 
bed against  our  feet,  rolled  on  the  ground  and  acted  just  as 
though  it  was  intoxicated. 

The  man  next  took  two  torches  into  the  grotto,  but  the 
moment  they  were  brought  in  contact  with  this  stream  of 
gas,  they  went  out.  This  was  repeated  several  times.  In 
the  lake,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  bank,  is  a  little  spring 
formed  by  this  gas,  which  boils  and  bubbles  up  through  the 
water. 

In  another  grotto,  we  found  the  air  still  more  strongly  im- 
pregnated, so  that  after  putting  our  faces  down  near  the 
ground,  we  could  scarcely  breathe,  and  in  still  another,  there 
was  such  a  stream  of  hot  vapor  ascending  from  the  earth, 
that  after  we  had  been  there  a  few  seconds,  the  perspiration 
started  from  every  pore.  Thus  the  mountains  around  Na- 
ples seem  to  be  full  of  inward  fires,  w^hich  come  out  in  dif- 
ferent forms,  wherever  there  is  an  opening. 

As  we  returned  home  we  met  flocks  of  goats  going  to  the 
city  after  browsing  on  the  hills  during  the  day.  Every 
morning  quite  early  I  hear  their  little  tinkling  bells,  as  they 
are  driven  by  out  of  the  city.  They  are  stepped  at  those 
houses  where  their  milk  is  wanted,  and  milked  according  to 
demand. 

In  passing  by  the  palace  of  the  Minister  of  State,  a  hand- 
some carriage  with  two  coachmen,  two  footmen  and  one 
outrider,  drew  up  before  the  door.  On  the  seat  of  the  car- 
riage sat  in  solitary  dignity  a  dog !  I  do  not  know  that  all 
this  dashing  out  was  for  the  mere  purpose  of  taking  the  dog 
to  ride ;  perhaps  its  master  had  stopped  somewhere,  and  sent 
it  home,  but  any  way,  it  looked  ludicrous  enough  to  see  a 
little  dog  perched  up  there  in  that  style. 

Just  after  I  commenced  writing  this  evening,  we  heard 
the  firing  of  guns  and  rockets,  and  J.  went  out  to  see  what 
was  going  on.  He  soon  came  back  for  me  to  go  and  see  a 
church  that  was  illuminated.  I  felt  as  though  nothing  would 
tempt  me  to  go  out   again,  but  as  he  said  it  was  near,  I  con- 


88  LETTERS. 

sented  to  go.  It  was  a  small  church,  but  the  front  was  one 
blaze  of  light.  On  the  outside  small  candles  were  fixed  in 
slanting  rows.  The  cross  on  the  top  had  lights  all  round  it. 
I  suppose  it  is  the  eve  of  some  saint's  day. 

And  now  it  is  quite  time  for  me  to  bring  this  long  letter 
to  a  close,  but  not  before  I  tell  you  how  disappointed  we 
have  been  in  not  receiving  letters  from  you  here.  We  left 
orders  with  our  banker  at  Paris  to  forward  any  letters  that 
would  come  before  the  fifteenth  of  May,  expecting  you  would 
write  by  the  steamer  of  the  last  of  April.  Well,  we  still 
must  hope,  though  two  months  seem  a  long  time  to  be 
without  hearing  from  those  we  love  and  have  left. 

Sunday  evening. 

I  open  my  letter  to  tell  you  a  little  of  our  Sunday  in  Na- 
ples. We  went  this  morning  to  the  English  chapel,  in  the 
palace  of  the  British  Ambassador.  It  affected  me  to  tears 
to  hear  again  the  service  I  so  much  love.  It  seemed  as 
though  time  and  place  were  forgotten;  I  no  longer  felt  "  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land."  There  was  some  difference  in 
the  service ;  that  being  adapted  to  the  English  church,  of 
course  much  mention  was  made  of  the  Queen  and  the  royal 
family.  But  the  "  Te  Deum,"  that  glorious  hymn,  was  the 
same ;  the  words  of  the  chants,  the  creed  and  most  of  the 
prayers  were  the  same.  I  felt  as  though  I  was  once  more  in 
my  own  home. 

This  afternoon,  at  five  o'clock,  we  went  to  one  of  the 
Romish  churches,  where  we  heard  there  was  to  be  some  good 
music.  It  is  a  fine  looking  church  and  is  much  ornamented ; 
all  its  chapels  are  hung  with  crimson  and  white  curtains. 
We  procured  some  chairs,  for  there  are  no  pews  in  any  of 
these  churches.  We  sat  a  loner  time  waiting  for  the  service 
to  commence;  at  last  we  began  to  think  we  were  hoaxed, 
but  on  looking  round,  we  saw  that  nearly  all  the  congrega- 
tion was  seated,  and  we  knew  they  would  not  be  at  the  ex- 
pense of  hiring  chairs    (though  it  is  only  about  two  cents 


LETTERS.  83 

a-piece,)  unless  something  unusual  was  going  to  take  place. 
We  amused  ourselves  with  looking  about,  and  particularly 
with  observing  the  conduct  of  the  soldiers  that  were  station- 
ed around  the  church.  They  stood  at  their  posts  immovable 
as  rocks,  neither  looking  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left.  After 
waiting  at  least  an  hour,  there  appeared  in  the  pulpit  a  man 
richly  robed,  having  on  his  head  a  bishop's  or  archbishop's 
cap.  He  had  no  notes,  but  spoke  very  fluently,  sometimes 
in  Latin,  and  sometimes  in  Italian.  On  one  of  the  fingers 
of  his  right  hand  sparkled  a  magnificent  diamond  ring.  I 
thought  he  never  would  get  through,  and  began  to  fear  we 
should  have  to  go  home  without  any  music,  for  it  was  getting 
near  dinner  time;  but,  just  then,  I  saw  movements  around 
the  organ,  and  as  soon  as  the  prosy  speaker  had  finished,  the 
organ  gallery  was  filled.  I  should  think  there  were  fifty  per- 
formers. There  were  two  organs,  several  violins,  flutes,  bu- 
gles, trumpets,  drums,  &lc.  The  music  was  grand,  I  never 
heard  any  thing  to  equal  it.  Then  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
singing  too,  all  done  by  males.  One  man  sang  so  like  a 
female,  that  if  he  had  been  behind  a  curtain  I  should  have 
insisted  upon  it  that  it  was  a  female,  the  voice  was  so  sweet, 
so  rich,  and  yet  so  powerful.  There  were  several  boys  too 
that  sang  admirably.  Amid  all  this  melody  there  came  in  a 
procession  of  priests,  clothed  in  the  richest  robes,  preceded 
by  two  soldiers  to  clear  the  way,  and  by  men  bearing  large 
candles. 

The  candles  around  the  altar  were  lit,  one  by  one,  till  the 
whole  was  one  blaze  of  light  and  splendor.  The  image  of 
Christ,  back  of  the  altar,  was  illuminated,  more  than  one 
hundred  candles  being  around  it,  and  I  should  judge  more 
than  five  hundred  in  all  about  the  altar,  besides  the  dozens  of 
chandeliers  in  various  parts  of  the  church.  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  ceremony,  which  of  course  we  did  not  under- 
stand ;  incense  in  profusion  was  burnt  which  filled  the 
church  with  its  rich  odor.  All  this,  the  brilliancy,  the  splen- 
dor, the  pomp  and  parade,  produced  a  scene  I  never  expected 


84  LETTERS. 

to  have  witnessed.  I  no  longer  wondered  at  the  sway  which 
this  religion  has  over  the  minds  of  the  people.  I  no  longer 
marvelled  that  they  gave  their  last  mite  to  contribute  to  such 
pageantry. 

I  should  think  there  were  more  than  five  thousand  people 
present  this  evening.  The  outside  of  the  church  and  the 
buildings  around  were  illuminated,  and  the  streets  were 
thronged. 

On  our  return  we  found  Mr.  D.  in  the  greatest  trouble 
about  us ;  he  was  on  the  point  of  sending  to  the  consul's  to 
see  what  should  be  done.  The  waiters  seemed  in  like  anxie- 
ty, though  I  think  it  was  as  much  on  account  of  their  dinner 
being  spoiled  as  for  fear  of  our  being  lost  or  carried  away. 
And  now  behold  the  end  of  this  long  letter.     As  ever,  yours. 


Naples,  Monday  evening. 
My  dearest  P  : 

We  have  accomplished  to-day  our  trip  to  Vesuvius,  and  I 
think  when  you  hear  the  particulars,  you  will  say  with  me, 
that  it  is  indeed,  no  light  affair  to  go  there  and  back  in  one 
day.  We  had  in  addition  to  our  usual  party  the  company 
of  Mr.  T.,  an  American  gentleman,  who  is  on  his  way 
home  from  China.  We  started  by  four  o'clock,  and  at  that 
early  hour  found  the  streets  very  quiet.  We  saw  several 
men  asleep  in  the  streets,  the  lazzaroni,  I  suppose,  those 
who  know  not  one  night  where  they  shall  sleep  the  next,  un- 
less indeed  it  be  in  the  open  air. 

We  passed  along  the  same  road  that  leads  to  Pompeii,  till 
just  beyond  Portici,  where  we  turned  off,  and  soon  came  to 
Rosina,  a  dirty  little  town,  where  we  left  the  carriage. 
Here  we  expected  to  find  donkeys  to  take  us  up  the  moun- 
tain, but  to  our  disappointment,  could  not  succeed  in  pro- 
curing any.     Now  the  idea  of  riding  on  a  donkey  had  been 


LETTERS.  85 

rather  pleasant  than  otherwise  to  me,  and  for  several  reasons. 
First,  because  they  are  so  small,  if  you  fall,  you  can  't  fall 
far;  secondly,  they  are  very  sure-footed,  and  lastly  (and 
which  I  am  not  sure  was  not  the  strongest  reason  after  all,) 
it  would  be  something  novel  to  write  to  you  about,  but  the 
idea  of  mounting  a  great  high  horse  had  never  entered  my 
head,  for  you  know  the  perfect  fear  I  have  always  had  of 
horseback  riding.  At  first  1  declared  I  v.'ould  not  and  could 
not  go,  and  then  I  knew  that  all  my  life  long,  I  should  regret 
that  I  had  thus  relinquished  the  attempt  to  visit  Vesuvius,  so 
not  without  some  groans  and  sighs,  and  even  a  few  tears,  I 
mounted.  I  know  you  will  laugh  at  these  fears  and  call  them 
childish,  but  I  can't  help  it  if  you  do ;  I  shall  tell  you  just 
how  I  felt  about  it,  laugh  or  not.  For  the  first  half  hour  I 
trembled  so  that  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  keeping  my 
seat,  though  the  guide  attempted  to  console  me  by  assuring 
me  in  two  languages,  that  there  was  "  no  danger  de  tout." 
At  last  after  I  became  accustomed  to  my  seat,  I  began  to 
look  around  me,  and  then  my  sen^  of  the  ludicrous  came  to 
my  aid,  and  as  I  looked  on  our  cavalcade,  I  laughed  heartily 
and  for  a  time  forgot  my  fears.  Shall  I  describe  our  party 
to  you  ? 

First  was  Mr.  D.  well  mounted,  then  came  Mr.  T.  on  a 
donkey,  for  he  had  contrived  some  way  to  procure  one. 
Now  he  is  quite  a  tall  man,  and  his  legs  dangled  on  both 
sides  of  the  donkey  in  rather  dangerous  proximity  to  the 
ground.  Behind,  holding  on  to  the  donkey's  tail  ran  his 
guide  (a  queer  place  by  the  way  for  a  guide)  who  ever  and 
anon  gave  the  animal  a  smart  stroke  with  a  great  stick  he 
carried  in  his  hand,  causing  him  to  give  a  sudden  start, 
thereby  sending  Mr.  T.  almost  over  his  head,  so  that  I 
thought  he  would  have  a  chance  of  getting  to  Vesuvius  even 
before  the  donkey.  Then,  mounted  on  a  great,  black  horse, 
came  my  humble  self  in  my  usual  travelling  dress,  with  my 
feet  encased  in  a  pair  of  great,  stout,  leather  boots,  which 
were  bought  at  the  enormous  price  of  sixty  cents,  and  which 
8 


S6  LETTERS. 

showed  to  excellent  advantage  on  horseback  My  saddle  was 
semicircular,  with  high  back  and  sides,  so  that  it  seemed 
impossible  for  me  to  fall.  One  guide  walked  at  the  head  of 
my  horse,  and  another  at  my  side,  while  Francesco  kept 
close  behind  me.  Then  came  J.,  and  as  his  horse  had  the 
misfortune  to  lose  a  shoe,  he  was  obliged  to  dismount  and 
walk  a  part  of  the  way.  A  motley  set  of  men  and  boys 
brought  up  the  rear,  though  what  they  went  for  is  more  than 
I  can  tell,  for  we  repeatedly  told  them  we  had  no  need  of 
their  services,  as  we  already  had  four  or  five  guides.  Gentle 
reader,  whoever  thou  art,  who  by  my  clemency  art  permitted 
to  read  these  letters,  thinkest  thou  not  we  presented  a  fine 
appearance,  as  we  wended  our  way  up  the  stony  sides  of 
Vesuvius  ? 

But  the  road !  never  before  did  mortal  man  see  such  a 
one.  Imagine  a  steep,  continual  hill  for  nearly  five  miles, 
strew  the  road  with  as  many  stones  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  as 
you  think  it  can  well  bear,  and  you  will  have  a  faint  idea  of 
the  horse-path  up  the  mountain.  At  the  Hermitage,  a  dis- 
mal looking  sort  of  a  convent,  we  stopped  and  got  some  re- 
freshments, (I  suppose  they  were  called)  though  they  were 
any  thing  but  refreshing  to  us,  and  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  there  left  our  horses.  Glad  was  I  to  find  myself  on 
my  feet  once  more,  and  I  felt  assured  that  as  this  was  my 
first  attempt  at  ascending  mountains  on  horseback,  so  it 
should  be  my  last. 

And  now  came  the  labor.  The  mountain  side  was  cov- 
ered with  large  pieces  of  lava,  which  however  served  as  step- 
ping-stones, so  that  1  did  not  find  the  ascent  so  difficult  as  I 
had  apprehended.  I  had  heard  gentlemen  at  the  hotel  speak 
of  it  as  dreadful,  and  one  Englishman  said  that  I  never  could 
get  up  without  being  carried,  but  Mr.  D.  told  him  he  did  not 
know  how  much  the  New  England  girls  could  do.  The  way 
that  ladies  usually  go,  is  in  a  chair  borne  by  two  men,  but  I 
chose  to  trust  to  my  own  feet,  and  got  up  without  any  assist- 
ance except  a  huge  cane  that  I   carried,  and  we  stopped  but 


LETTERS.  87 

twice  to  rest,  though  we  were  an  hour  and  a  half  in  climbing 

up- 

I  was  very  much  surprised  at  the  near  view  of  this  moun- 
tain, it  is  so  entirely  different  from  what  I  had  even  imagin- 
ed. I  had  always  thought  the  smoke  and  flames  came  from 
the  very  top  of  the  mountain,  but  instead  of  this  there  is  an 
opening  of  more  than  three  miles  in  circumference,  which  is 
called  the  upper  crater.  This  opening  slopes  down  for  near- 
ly a  half  mile,  and  there  in  the  centre  is  the  inner  crater,  the 
crater  from  which  issue  the  smoke  and  the  flames.  Though 
it  was  different  from  what  I  expected,  yet  it  was  a  grand 
sight. 

As  we  stood  upon  the  edge  of  the  upper  crater  and  looked 
down,  we  saw  volumes  of  smoke  and  lurid  flames  constantly 
bursting  out,  accompanied  by  a  roaring  sound  like  the  heavy 
surge  of  the  sea,  and  as  the  wind  blew  the  smoke  from  us, 
we  could  see  the  masses  of  molten  lava  beating  back  and 
forth.  It  seems  strange  how  from  such  a  place,  so  deep 
down,  and  surrounded  by  the  high  walls  of  the  upper  crater, 
such  an  immense  quantity  of  lava  can  be  thrown  as  to  de- 
vastate the  country,  but  it  shows  the  amazing  power  of  the 
volcano. 

All  around  the  inside  and  outside  of  the  upper  crater  were 
openings  from  which  smoke  issued.  This,  connected  with 
the  fact,  that  in  all  the  mountains  around  Naples,  there  are 
so  many  boiling  springs,  shows  that  within  this  range  of 
mountains,  fire  is  constantly  burning,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
that  in  the  course  of  time,  though  it  may  take  ages  to  ac- 
complish it,  this  fire  will  burst  out  and  the  whole  country 
will  be  laid  waste  before  its  desolating  power.  If  so,  one  of 
the  fairest  pages  in  nature's  book  will  be  blotted  out. 

In  one  place  there  was  an  opening  in  the  crater,  where 
Francesco  put  some  eggs  which  were  soon  roasted,  and  in 
another  the  heat  was  so  intense  that  one  of  our  canes,  a  few 
moments  after  it  was  put  in,  was  burnt  to  cinders.  We  had 
to  step  briskly  round,  I  can  assure  you,  for  the  ground  every 


98  LETTERS. 

where  was  so  hot,  that  we  dared  not  stop  a  minute  in  any 
one  place  for  fear  of  burning  our  feet.  All  around  us  were 
remains  of  different  eruptions.  Continued  changes  are  go- 
ing on.  Several  old  craters  were  pointed  out  to  us,  and  the 
present  one  has  only  been  a  few  years  as  it  now  is.  Oh, 
how  manifold,  how  varied  are  the  works  of  God  !  Here  is 
this  smoking,  fiery  mountain,  a  constant  dread  and  scourge 
to  the  country,  while  at  its  feet  lies  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
scenes  upon  which  the  eye  ever  rested. 

From  this  elevated  height  we  had  a  fine  view  of  Naples, 
and  the  adjcMiiing  country  for  miles.  In  the  bay  of  Naples  I 
have  been  somewhat  disappointed.  Though  beautiful  and 
very  capacious,  it  fell  rather  short  of  my  expectations,  raised 
as  they  had  been  to  a  high  pitch  by  the  exaggerated  ac- 
counts of  travellers.  The  bay  is  finely  fortified  by  nature, 
having  mountainous  promontories  extending  far  down  on 
either  side.  At  its  entrance  is  the  Island  of  Capri  which  is 
elevated  some  distance  above  the  sea.  Naples  lies  in  a  serai- 
circle  around  the  bay,  and  is  compactly  built,  so  that  it  does 
not  present  such  an  extended  surface  as  many  cities  of  the 
like  number  of  inhabitants.  The  sea  was  seen  far  and  nigh, 
running  up  into  the  shore  in  little  bays  and  gulfs,  and  lay  so 
placid  that  it  seemed  more  like  a  representation  of  death 
than  a  thing  of  life.  Around  Naples,  the  country  was  spread 
out  like  a  garden,  and  was  dotted  with  palaces  and  villas  and 
villages,  and  to  crown  all,  a  lofty  range  of  mountains  bounded 
the  view,  on  whose  summits  the  snow  lay  in  masses,  like 
heavy  white  clouds.  On  the  other  side  of  Vesuvius  the  ruin- 
ed walls  and  houses  of  Pc  mpeii  were  seen.  The  fields  ad- 
joining, were  some  of  them  rich  and  green,  while  others  were 
blackened  by  the  lava  which  in  former  days  had  rolled  down 
the  mountain  side.  And  this  is  Vesuvius,  old  Vesuvius  of 
which  I  have  often  read,  and  on  which  I  have  oft  pondered 
in  my  childish  days.  Alas!  what  terror  has  this  mountain 
produced ! 

Many  are  the  eyes  which  are  daily  turned  towards  its  sura- 


LETTERS.  89 

mit,  and  bright  are  those  eyes,  if  the  smoke  is  seen  curling 
up,  but  sad,  most  sad,  if  no  smoke  is  seen  for  several  days, 
for  then  an  eruption  is  sure  to  occur.  Processions  of  bare- 
footed people  are  then  seen  thronging  to  the  church  of  St.  Gen- 
naro  to  beseech  their  patron  saint  to  avert  the  dreadful  doom. 
Ah!  do  none  pray  to  Him,  the  great  and  mighty  God  who 
orders  all  these  things  for  his  people's  good?  But  if  no  great 
eruption  takes  place,  all  is  joy  and  forgetfulness  of  the  past 
and  the  future,  and  thus  they  live  on,  knowing  that  fire  is  all 
around  them,  and  yet  "  they  buy  and  sell  and  get  gain," 
"  they  marry  and  are  given  in  marriage,"  though  they  know 
not  but  that  each  day  may  bring  their  destruction.  Deluded 
people  !  how  I  pity  them  !  Doubtless  it  is  for  the  wise  purpose 
of  teaching  them  to  prepare  for  eternity,  that  God  permits 
this  column  of  fire  and  smoke  to  be  a  perpetual  beacon  to 
them. 

Our  descent  was  accomplished  in  a  few  minutes.  We 
came  down  by  a  different  path  from  that  by  which  we  as- 
cended. Though  it  was  easy  to  come  down  by  it,  it  would 
be  by  no  means  so  to  go  up,  as  we  were  more  than  ankle 
deep  in  ashes  every  step  we  took.  All  we  had  to  do  was  to 
throw  our  bodies  back  so  as  to  avoid  fallir>g  and  then  slip 
along.  Here  I  found  my  boots  very  serviceable,  as  they 
protected  my  feet  from  the  ashes.  We  once  more  mounted 
our  horses  and  got  to  Rosin  a  without  difficulty,  and  with 
extorting  only  a  few  groans  from  me  as  we  came  to  a  very 
bad  place. 

A  new  road  is  reported  to  be  in  contemplation  from  Ro- 
sina  to  the  Hermitage,  which  it  is  said  will  cost  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  though  Francesco  said  "  the  Lord  only 
knew  where  the  money  was  to  come  from,"  but  I  could 
have  told  him,  it  would  come  from  the  people,  already 
poor  and  oppressed ;  a  little  more  grinding  down  would  ex- 
tort it  from  them ;  a  little  more  multiplication  of  the  poor 
that  are  already  seen  in  too  great  abundance,  and  the  money 
will  be  forthcoming.  When  I  look  upon  this  beautiful 
8* 


98  LETTERS. 

country,  smiling  with  plenty,  and  behold  the  fields,  the  road- 
side and  the  very  mountain  tops,  carried  to  the  highest  state 
of  cultivation,  when  I  see  the  clear  bright  sky  and  feel  the 
rich,  warm  sun  of  Italy,  and  then  contrast  this  scene  of  per- 
fect loveliness  with  the  degradation  and  want  around  me,  I 
cannot  but  sigh  that  this  Eden  should  be  converted  into  a 
vale  of  misery. 

Such  a  scene  as  v/e  had  when  we  got  to  Rosin  a,  the  men 
were  so  clamorous  for  their  pay.  Our  guides  though,  de- 
manded but  thirty  cents  a-piece  for  their  services,  but  then 
they  expected  the  like  sum  for  their  fee  as  "  buono  mano.'* 
Besides,  all  that  followed  in  our  train,  though  repeatedly  told 
to  go  back,  had  the  boldness  to  ask  pay  for  their  escort,  and 
one  man  on  being  refused,  threw  himself  on  the  ground  in  a 
transport  of  rage,  tore  his  hair  and  uttered  the  most  dismal 
shrieks. 

We  got  back  to  our  hotel  by  two.  The  gentlemen  of  our 
party  sought  rest  in  sleep.  I  took  a  warm  bath,  and  then  sat 
down  to  write,  and  when  I  appeared  at  the  dinner  table, 
none  of  the  English  gentlemen  there  could  believe  that  I 
had  been  to  Vesuvius  and  got  back  again,  with  so  little 
apparent  fatigue. 

After  dinner  we  took  a  short  walk.  The  streets  were 
thronged  with  carriages,  with  liveried  coachmen  and  footmen. 
Many  of  the  inhabitants  here,  make  a  great  show  in  the 
street,  dashing  out  every  evening  in  the  fashionable  prome- 
nade, dressed  in  their  best,  though  I  am  told  a  great  part  of 
this  is  outside  show.  Many  of  the  higher  classes  in  Naples 
do  not  rise  till  nine,  when  they  take  a  light  breakfast ;  at 
twelve  or  one  they  dine,  after  which  they  sleep  till  about  five, 
when  they  get  up,  dress  and  ride  out.  The  fashionable  ride 
is  up  and  down  our  street,  so  we  have  a  fine  opportunity 
while  at  dinner  to  see  the  carriages  pass. 

But  just  think  how  early  I  was  up  this  morning,  so  blame 
me  not  if  I  bid  you  an  abrupt  good  night. 


LETTERS.  ^1 

Tuesday  evening. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

This  is  our  last  day  in  Naples,  so  we  have  been  pretty 
busy  in  looking  around  us  ;  all  our  arrangements  are  made 
for  starting  to-morrow  morning  for  Rome,  our  passports  are 
signed  and  our  seats  engaged  in  the  Diligence.  This  morn- 
ing we  went  out  to  Portici  and  visited  the  royal  palace  there, 
the  tickets  for  which  were  kindly  given  us  by  the  American 
consul  here.  I  believe  I  have  said  nothing  to  you  about  the 
streets  of  Naples.  They  are  quite  narrow,  and  have  no  side- 
walks at  all,  so  that  when  we  are  on  foot,  we  are  in  constant 
fear  of  being  run  over.  They  are  paved  with  large  flat 
stones,  very  easy  to  walk  on,  but  difficult  for  horses  as  they 
are  apt  to  slip  upon  them  particularly  in  wet  weather. 

The  roads  around  Naples  are  excellent ;  we  generally  have 
an  open  barouche  and  two  good  horses,  for  as  I  told  you 
before,  carriage  hire  is  very  reasonable  here.  The  coach- 
man, to  be  sure  expects  his  "  buono  mano,"  in  addition  to 
liis  pay,  but  then  their  wages  are  very  low,  being  but  forty 
cents  a  day,  and  they  are  required  to  be  out  from  daylight  to 
midnight.  A  coachman  rarely  leaves  his  horses,  generally 
a  boy  lets  down  the  steps  for  you  and  then  he  expects  a  fee. 
You  can  have  no  idea  of  the  vast  number  of  fees  that  are 
here  extorted.  If  you  visit  a  palace,  church  or  museum, 
and  fine  looking  men  in  military  costume,  show  you  around, 
you  must  put  a  fee  in  their  hands,  and  if  it  is  not  what  they 
expect,  they  will  follow  you,  and  Oliver  like,  "  ask  for  more." 
Even  my  boot-maker  the  other  day  demanded  an  extra  car- 
lini  (eight  cents)  to  buy  a  bottle  of  wine  that  he  might  drink 
my  health.  At  all  the  hotels  thus  far  we  have  been  charged 
a  franc  a-piece  each  day  for  servants'  fees,  and  this  is  much 
better  than  not  to  have  a  fixed  price,  as  all  are  then  more 
easily  satisfied.  But  I  have  wandered  far  from  my  subject. 
Come  we  now  to  the  palace  of  Portici.  It  is  a  large  build- 
ing, is  painted  yellow,  and  is  without  any  claims  to  external 


92  LETTERS. 

beauty.  The  rooms  though,  are  very  finely  furnished ; 
some  of  them  were  floored  with  mosaics  brought  from  Pom- 
peii, but  the  most  of  them  with  brick  or  tile,  highly  polished. 
The  queen's  bed-room  was  lined  with  yellow  satin,  and  the 
bed  curtains,  and  coverings  of  the  chairs  and  sofa  were  all 
of  the  same  material.  Within  the  bed  curtains  hung  two 
crosses,  and  the  guide  told  us  the  queen  always  crossed  her- 
self before  getting  up.  In  her  dressing-room  was  a  little 
recess,  where  was  an  altar  on  which  were  a  crucifix,  vases  of 
flowers  and  wax  candles.  Before  the  altar  was  a  crimson 
cushion,  on  which  her  majesty  kneels,  and  here  she  comes 
every  morning  before  dressing  to  say  her  prayers.  But  I 
saw  no  oratory  in  any  of  the  king's  rooms,  though  the  guide 
vindicated  his  piety  by  saying  that  he  always  said  his  prayers 
before  dressing.  *'  Well,"  I  told  him,  "  they  all  have  need 
enough  of  praying,"  which  made  him  open  his  eyes  quite  wide, 
to  hear  any  one  speak  so  lightly  of  a  king.  The  king's  bed- 
chamber was  lined  with  blue  satin.  Here  were  several  bells, 
each  named,  one  having  on  the  cord  "  secretary,"  another, 
*■'  chamberlain,"  &lc.,  so  that  whatever  person  of  his  royal 
household  is  wanted,  he  has  only  to  ring  that  particular  bell. 
In  one  room  the  walls  were  of  china,  painted  and  adorned 
with  large  figures.  One  large  room  was  fitted  up  for  a  thea- 
tre, where  their  majesties  might  be  amused  with  a  play  with- 
out going  out  of  the  palace.  The  garden  was  extensive,  but 
not  to  be  compared  in  beauty  with  the  gardens  in  Genoa. 
The  park  was  large,  and  had  broad  walks  shaded  with  fine, 
old  trees.  In  a  little  lodge  in  the  back  part  of  the  park,  was 
a  room  where  the  old  king  used  to  dine  alone.  In  the  cen- 
tre of  the  room  was  a  circular  table  in  which  were  four 
openings  with  covers  to  them.  Underneath  these  covers 
were  several  bells,  each  numbered,  and  having  a  label  on 
which  were  names  of  different  dishes.  As  soon  as  he  rung 
one  of  the  bells,  the  cover  sprang  off,  and  up  came  the  very 
dish  he  wanted.  As  this  was  something  quite  new,  I  thought 
I  would  put  it  down  for  your  amusement. 


LETTERS.  98 

In  another  part  of  the  park  were  enclosures,  in  which 
were  some  kangaroos,  two  lions  and  some  antelopes. 

On  our  way  back  we  met  numbers  of  a  curious  sort  of 
carriage  in  which  the  country  people  ride  to  and  from  Naples, 
for  a  very  small  sum.  It  somewhat  resembles  an  old- 
fashioned  chaise  but  without  any  top.  Now  you  would  think 
from  this  description,  that  but  few  could  ride  in  one  of  these 
vehicles,  as  from  time  immemorial  the  expression  "  three  in 
a  chaise  "  has  been  used  to  signify  a  crowded  condition,  but 
we  generally  see  from  fifteen  to  twenty  persons  at  once  in 
one  of  these  carriages  ;  they  stand  on  the  top,  sit  on  the 
shafts,  hang  on  behind,  and  even  swing  underneath,  a  kind 
of  net  being  fixed  for  their  accommodation.  Nor  do  they 
go  slowly  either,  as  you  might  suppose  from  such  a  load,  but 
they  rattle  over  the  road  at  the  rate  of  eight  or  ten  miles  an 
hour,  and  that  too  with  but  one  horse. 

What  practical  phrenologists  the  Neapolitans  are !  I 
never  ride  out,  without  seeing  an  examination  of  heads 
going  on,  though  bumps  do  not  seem  to  be  exactly  the  things 
sought  after,  as  they  look  too  deeply  into  the  hair  for  that. 
However,  if  you  can 't  guess  what  I  mean,  you  must  wait 
till  you  see  a  woman  with  her  child's  head  in  her  lap,  busily 
looking  into  that  head  and  examining  it,  and  you  will  then 
know  what  I  here  mean  by  practical  phrenology. 

While  we  were  at  dinner  to-day,  the  waiter  came  in,  and 
said  the  king  was  coming  by.  We  ran  to  the  window  and 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  their  majesties  ride  by,  in  a  car- 
riage drawn  by  four  horses,  with  one  out-rider,  two  grooms 
and  two  footmen.  The  queen  had  on  a  pink  satin  bonnet, 
and  looked  like  a  small  woman,  but  her  face  being  turned 
from  me,  I  could  form  no  distinct  idea  of  her  looks.  The 
king  is  rather  a  large,  portly  man,  but  he  had  a  glass  to  his 
eye,  and  his  hand  shaded  his  face  so  much  that  I  could  see 
but  little  of  it.  Several  carriages  preceded  and  followed 
them,  but  there  was  no  other  appearance  of  state  or  style. 
The  carriages  that  were  in   the  street  drew  up  as  the  royal 


^i  LETTERS. 

cavalcade  passed,  but  there  was  no  other  outward  demonstra- 
tion of  respect,  except  by  the  gentlemen  taking  off  their  hats. 
And  thus  we  have  seen  a  real  king  and  queen,  and  find  that 
they  look  and  dress  like  other  people. 

And  now  we  have  looked  our  last  upon  Naples.  The 
weather  has  been  delightful  since  we  have  been  here.  It  has 
been  warm,  but  there  has  been*  a  soft  breeze  from  the  bay 
which  has  tempered  the  air,  so  that  it  has  never  been  oppres- 
sive. That  our  time  has  been  fully  occupied,  may  be  seen 
from  my  letters.  And  now  we  turn  towards  Rome,  and 
there  among  other  pleasures,  we  hope  to  have  that  of  hearing 
from  our  distant  home.     Adieu. 


Rome,  Friday. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

And  now  we  are  in  Rome  !  Rome,  once  the  mistress  of 
the  world,  now  the  seat  of  desolation  and  ruin — Rome, 
where  once  resided  poets  and  orators  and  statesmen,  the 
wise,  the  great  and  the  good.  Here  too  lived  emperors  and 
kings,  some  a  blessing,  others  a  scourge  to  the  country,  to 
the  world.  And  now  we  are  in  Rome  —  now  shall  we  tread 
its  classic  soil ;  now  shall  we  walk  where  genius  oft  has  trod, 
where  learning  and  eloquence  have  made  the  ground,  as  it 
were,  holy. 

We  left  Naples  by  four  o'clock  Wednesday  morning  in 
the  Diligence.  Our  faithful  Francesco  kept  by  the  side  of 
the  carriage  till  we  were  beyond  the  precincts  of  the  city  j 
then  with  many  bows  and  hearty  wishes  for  our  future  jour- 
ney, he  left  us.  We  enjoyed  the  ride  on  Wednesday  very 
much.  The  country  was  very  pleasant,  very  fertile  and 
generally  well  cultivated.  We  were  in  view  of  the  sea 
almost  the  whole  day.  We  passed  by  real  orchards  of 
lemons  and  oranges,  some  of  the  trees  bending  beneath  their 
golden  fruit,  and  others  white  with  their  odorous  blossoms. 


LETTERS.  95 

We  stopped  all  night  at  Terracina.  The  waves  of  the  sea 
dashed  against  the  lower  part  of  our  inn,  so  that  several 
times  we  thought  we  must  be  really  out  at  sea.  For  the 
first  time  since  I  left  my  home,  I  suffered  from  sickness,  and 
that  night  I  was  so  exceedingly  ill  that  I  got  no  rest  at  all, 
so  that  I  slept  almost  the  whole  day  yesterday,  not  even 
waking  up  while  passing  over  the  far-famed  Pontine  marshes. 
Two  or  three  miles  before  reaching  Rome,  we  passed  magni- 
ficent ruins  of  ancient  aqueducts,  some  of  them  extending 
more  than  a  mile  in  length.  We  were  stopped  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  city  and  our  baggage  well  examined,  which 
operation,  by  the  way,  was  also  gone  through  with  at  Terra- 
cina. 

We  are  now  at  the  Hotel  d'Europe.  Mr.  T.  came 
with  us  from  Naples,  and  is  stopping  here,  forming  one  of 
our  party.  We  engaged  our  ''  valet  de  place,"  John  by 
name,  yesterday  afternoon,  and  to-day  commenced  the  rounds 
of  sight-seeing.  My  first  impressions  of  Rome  are  a  little 
different  from  what  I  had  anticipated.  The  ruins  I  thought 
were  interspersed  among  the  houses,  thus  giving  the  city  a 
deserted  and  desolate  appearance,  but  they  are  mostly  out  of 
the  heart  of  the  city.  The  streets  of  modern  Rome  are 
narrow,  and  the  houses  high,  as  in  all  foreign  cities  we  have 
visited.  This  has  one  advantage,  the  streets  are  always 
shady  and  rather  cool. 

In  our  walks  this  morning  we  passed  the  "  College  of 
Propaganda."  Here  students  are  educated  at  public  expense 
for  the  ministry,  to  propagate  the  Romish  religion  far  and 
wide.  Here  they  are  taught  in  all  languages,  in  order  that 
they  may  be  fitted  to  go  into  foreign  lands  and  teach  their 
faith  to  every  creature. 

We  then  came  to  the  Palazza  Colonna,  a  part  of  which  is 
at  present  occupied  by  the  French  ambassador.  We  were 
only  shown  the  rooms  where  the  paintings  are.  There  are 
several  small  rooms  and  one  long  gallery,  said  to  be  the 
finest  gallery  in  Rome.     It   is  two  hundred   and   nine   feet 


96  LETTERS. 

long  and  thirty-five  broad.  At  each  extremity  is  a  vestibule 
separated  from  the  rest  of  the  gallery,  by  pillars  of  yellow 
marble  called  '*  giallo  antico."  The  ceiling  is  beautifully 
painted  representing  the  battle  of  Lepanto.  Ycu  cannot 
expect  me  to  give  you  lengthened  descriptions  of  the  pic- 
tures in  this  gallery.  I  should  not  have  the  time  to  write 
them,  and  I  think  you  would  hardly  have  the  patience  to 
read  them  after  they  were  written.  Suffice  it  to  say  the 
paintings  here  were  by  the  first  artists,  the  Caracci,  Van- 
dyke, Rubens,  Salvator  Rosa,  Poussin,  and  a  host  of  others 
too  numerous  to  mention.  One  picture  particularly  struck 
my  attention,  not  that  it  was  better  than  all  the  others,  but 
because  it  was  so  very  natural.  It  was  by  Caracci,  and  rep- 
resented a  peasant  eating.  Before  him  was  a  dish  of  peas, 
a  spoonful  of  which  he  was  in  the  act  of  raising  to  his 
mouth,  and  near  this  were  a  few  onions  and  a  glass  of  wine. 
It  was  one  of  the  most  natural  pictures  of  every-day  life  I 
ever  saw. 

We  passed  the  Fountain  of  Trevi,  called  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  fountains  in  the  world.  The  water  is  brought  by 
an  aqueduct  more  than  seven  miles,  and  falls  in  little  cas- 
cades over  rocks.  The  fountain  is  ornamented  with  three 
statues,  representing  Neptune,  Health  and  Abundance. 

We  stopped  at  the  temple  of  Nerva,  which  was  built  by 
Trajan  in  honor  of  Nerva.  A  portico  now  only  remains 
which  consists  of  three  magnificent  columns  of  Parian  mar- 
ble, fluted  in  the  Corinthian  style.  They  are  fifty-five  feet  in 
height  and  sixteen  round.  Near  this  is  the  temple  of  Pallas, 
which  is  also  in  ruins.  It  is  half  buried  in  the  earth ;  two 
large  pillars  only  are  seen  with  the  entablature  and  frieze, 
which  are  beautifully  sculptured,  though  some  parts  were 
defaced  by  the  barbarians. 

We  then  went  to  the  Forum  of  Trajan,  which  is  some 
feet  lower  than  the  streets  of  Rome.  In  fact  all  ancient 
Rome  is  much  lower  than  modern.  Some  say  this  is  owing 
to  earthquakes,  others  (which  is  the  more  probable  reason) 


LETTERS.  97 

that  when  the  Goths  and  Vandals  sacked  Rome  and  nearly 
overturned  the  whole  city,  the  remains  of  the  houses  and 
temples  lay  in  such  heaps  upon  the  ground,  that  when  the 
city  was  built  up  again  it  was  upon  that  foundation,  and 
without  removing  the  rubbish  at  all.  This  Forum  was  once 
much  more  extensive  than  it  is  at  present,  much  of  it  having 
been  built  over.  At  the  upper  end  of  it  stands  Trajan's  pil- 
lar, erected  by  the  senate  and  people  of  Rome  in  the  begin- 
ing  of  the  second  century,  in  honor  of  his  victories  over  the 
Daci.  It  is  a  magnificent  pillar  of  the  Doric  order,  and  is 
composed  of  thirty-four  blocks  of  white  marble,  which  how- 
ever have  become  discolored  by  time.  On  the  top  was  once 
a  statue  of  Trajan,  but  it  is  now  displaced  by  one  of  St. 
Peter,  holding  in  his  hand  the  keys  of  heaven.  All  around 
this  forum  are  pillars  of  grey  granite,  some  broken  off  near 
the  base,  and  others  a  little  higher  up  ;  none  are  left  entire. 
Lying  on  the  ground  was  an  immense  pillar  of  polished 
Egyptian  granite,  which  was  discovered  in  the  cellar  of  a 
neighboring  house  by  some  workmen.  At  a  little  distance 
from  this  forum,  but  now  quite  under  ground,  are  the  shops 
that  once  surrounded  it.  Some  of  them  are  in  a  good  state 
of  preservation,  most  of  the  arches  being  entire.  Here  too 
are  the  ancient  baths,  in  some  of  which  there  is  water  at  the 
present  time. 

We  next  visited  the  site  of  the  Forum  Romanum.  Here 
were  magnificent  ruins  ;  but  oh  !  where  in  Rome  are  ruins 
not  to  be  seen  ?  Here  were  the  arch  of  Septimius  Severus, 
and  remains  of  the  temples  of  Concord,  of  Fortune  and  of 
Jupiter  the  Thunderer.  Beyond  these  was  the  temple  of 
Antoninus  and  Faustina.  The  portico  (which  now  adorns 
a  church)  and  the  side  walls  are  in  an  excellent  state  of 
preservation. 

Soon  after,  we  passed  under  the  Arch  of  Titus,  built  of 

Pentelican  marble,  and  dedicated  to  Titus   in   honor  of  his 

conquest  of  Jerusalem.     On   this   arch   are   sculptured  his 

victories,  his  triumphal   procession  and  the  spoils  of  Jerusa- 

9 


98  LETTERS. 

lem,  and  here  is  said  to  be  the  best  likeness  of  him  now  ex- 
tant. 

At  a  little  distance  from  this  is  the  Arch  of  Constantine, 
built  in  honor  of  his  victory  over  Maxentius.  It  is  the  best 
edifice  of  the  kind  now  remaining  in  Rome.  It  is  composed 
of  three  arches,  the  central  one  being  the  largest.  It  has 
on  each  front  four  fluted  Corinthian  columns,  part  being  of 
giallo  antico,  and  part  of  white  marble.  It  is  covered  with 
sculpture,  and  the  whole  is  in  an  excellent  state  of  preserva- 
tion. 

When  we  had  duly  observed  all  these  ruins,  we  were  tired 
enough  to  come  home,  though  John  told  us  there  was 
enough  in  that  vicinity  to  keep  us  three  or  four  hours  longer. 
However  we  preferred  to  wait  and  see  them  another  day. 
Besides  it  was  getting  near  dinner  time. 

After  dinner  we  rode  out.  We  passed  along  the  Corse, 
the  fashionable  street  for  driving,  but  a  shower  coming  on  it 
was  soon  quite  deserted.  We  then  rode  upon  the  Pincian 
hill,  a  most  beautiful  ride,  shaded  with  fine  trees,  and  com- 
manding a  magnificent  view  of  Rome  and  its  environs.  And 
thus  has  ended  our  first  day's  sight-seeing  in  Rome,  and  I 
assure  you  my  eyes  already  begin  to  ache,  so  for  the  present 
I  leave  you. 


Rome,  Saturday. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Already  we  find  a  difference  in  the  air  of  Rome  from  that 
of  Naples.  We  no  longer  feel  the  cool  sea  breeze,  and  find 
the  heat  quite  as  great  here  as  it  is  with  us  in  the  middle  of 
July.  That  we  may  accomplish  our  sight-seeing  with  as  lit- 
tle fatigue  as  possible,  we  have  engaged  an  open  barouche 
for  the  remainder  of  our  stay  here,  and  we  have  spent  the 
most  of  this  day  in  riding  around  and  gazing  upon  the  won- 
ders of  Rome. 


LETTERS.  99 

We  went  first  to  the  Pantheon,  the  only  temple  of  ancient 
Rome  now  remaining  entire.  This  was  dedicated  to  all  the 
gods,  and  for  this  reason  it  was  preserved  when  others  were 
destroyed,  for  when  Rome  was  at  different  times  overthrown, 
and  foreign  nations  came  in  to  take  possession,  they  found 
in  this  temple  a  statue  of  their  own  particular  god.  It  is  in 
shape  circular,  and  has  a  magnificent  portico  in  front,  sup- 
ported by  sixteen  pillars  of  the  Corinthian  order.  The  in- 
terior is  almost  entirely  the  same  as  when  first  built,  except- 
ing of  course  the  change  which  must  necessarily  take  place 
in  converting  a  pagan  into  a  Christian  temple.  Some  of  the 
statues  have  been  displaced,  others  have  been  baptized  by  a 
Christian  name  ;  and  the  one,  which  for  aught  I  know,  was 
once  Jupiter  the  thunderer,  is  now  Paul  the  apostle  to  the 
Gentiles  ;  and  that  which  in  days  long  since  gone  by,  was 
Mars,  the  fiery  god  of  war,  is  now  John  the  gentle.  Sereral 
altars  have  been  erected,  but  the  pillars,  the  ceiling,  the 
niches,  the  marble  pavement  remain  the  same  as  in  days  of 
yore,  when  the  ancient  Romans  came  in  their  pride  and 
pomp,  to  lay  their  offerings  at  the  feet  of  their  gods.  A 
magnificent  dome  surmounts  the  edifice,  from  a  circular 
window  in  which  comes  all  the  light  that  is  admitted  into 
the  interior.  If  this  church  had  not  been  consecrated  to 
the  service  of  the  living  God,  it  would  almost  be  holy  ground, 
for  here  repose  the  remains  of  two  whose  names  are  in  all 
the  world,  Raphael,  and  Annibale  Caracci. 

Over  one  of  the  altars  is  the  statue  of  a  virgin,  which  has 
performed  many  miracles.  Here  a  lame  man  was  cured  by 
its  efficacy,  so  that  he  cast  away  his  crutches,  and  became 
whole  from  that  self-same  hour,  which  crutches  are  now 
shown  for  the  edification  of  the  faithful.  For  some  time  she 
has  ceased  to  perform  miracles,  but  in  another  church  there 
is  one,  according  to  John's  story,  that  is  indeed  wonderful. 
He  told  us  that  there  was  always  one  church  where  miracles 
were  wrought,  and  when  that  church  became  rich  by  them, 
they  ceased  there  but  soon  commenced  in  another  and  so  on, 
till  in  process  of  time  all  the  churches  would  get  rich. 


100  LETTERS. 

On  another  statue  in  the  Pantheon,  was  placed  a  number 
of  medals ;  these  were  proofs  of  vows  promised  and  paid. 
For  instance,  if  a  man  is  sick -he  vows  before  this  saint,  that 
if  he  is  restored  to  health,  he  will  pay  so  much  as  a  tribute 
to  her,  which  tribute  he  brings  in  the  form  of  a  silver  medal, 
or  some  such  thing,  and  places  it  on  the  statue.  On  all 
these  medals  were  letters  signifying  "  for  grace  received," 
We  asked  John  if  he  believed  all  that  he  had  been  telling 
us.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said  he  knew  too  much 
to  do  that. 

We  passed  by  the  Theatre  of  Marcellus,  and  the  Palace  of 
Octavia,  both  now  in  ruins,  and  came  to  the  Arch  of  Janus 
Quadrifrons.  This  is  a  square  building,  composed  of  im- 
mense blocks  of  Grecian  marble,  and  has  an  arch  in  the 
centre  of  each  front. 

Near  this  we  saw  the  Cloaca  Maxima,  or  great  drain  con- 
structed by  Tarquinius  Priscus,  to  carry  into  the  Tiber  the 
filth  and  dirt  of  the  city.  This  was  one  of  the  most  useful 
works  ever  undertaken  in  Rome,  as  it  contributed  much  to 
the  health  and  cleanliness  of  the  city.  It  has  however  been 
so  much  filled  up  of  late  years,  that  the  arches  are  not  near 
so  high  as  they  formerly  were. 

We  then  went  to  the  tomb  of  Caius  Cestus,  built  in  the 
form  of  a  pyramid.  It  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-three  feet 
in  height  and  is  adorned  in  front  with  two  obelisks.  We 
went  inside  of  the  pyramid.  The  walls  were  originally  de- 
corated with  paintings,  some  of  which  are  even  now  in  a 
good  state  of  preservation,  notwithstanding  the  lapse  of  years 
and  the  dampness  of  the  place.  They  are  not  seen  to  good 
advantage  however,  as  they  are  high  up  on  the  walls,  and 
can  be  viewed  only  by  torch-light.  One  painting  represent- 
ed a  dancing  girl,  a  queer  ornament  you  will  think  for  a 
tomb. 

We  then  went  out  of  the  city  a  little  distance  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Paul.  This  magnificent  edifice  which  was 
built  in  the   time  of  Constantine,  has  lately  been  nearly  de- 


LETTERS.  101 

stroyed  by  fire.  It  is  now  undergoing  the  most  thorough  re- 
pairs. It  is  in  the  form  of  a  Latin  cross,  and  is  two  hun- 
dred and  forty  feet  long.  The  upper  part  of  the  cross  is  all 
that  is  finished  at  present,  but  this  is  one  of  the  most  perfect 
things  I  ever  saw.  The  floor  is  of  marble,  the  walls,  pillars, 
altars,  steps,  in  short  every  thing  but  the  ceiling  is  of  white 
marble  with  veins  of  the  most  delicate  violet  color,  and 
hence  called  violet  marble.  The  ceiling  is  of  wood,  paint- 
ed white  and  beautifully  carved  and  gilded.  The  ceiling 
of  one  of  the  chapels  is  covered  with  figures  as  large  as  life, 
done  in  mosaic.  There  are  two  immense  pillars  of  marble 
brought  from  the  Simplon,  and  I  believe  presented  by  Napo- 
leon, but  I  dare  not  be  too  sure  about  it.  In  this  church  is 
the  mausoleum  of  St.  Paul,  supported  by  pillars  of  porphyry 
and  surrounded  by  a  railing  of  white  marble.  Here  repose 
a  part  of  the  remains  of  that  apostle.  This  tomb  was  left 
unscathed  by  the  fire,  which  doubtless  is  considered  a  mir- 
acle. Altogether  this  church,  at  least  so  far  as  it  is  finished, 
is  one  of  the  most  perfectly  beautiful  I  have  ever  seen.  It 
has  not  the  heavy,  splendid  ornaments  of  some  churches,  but 
there  is  a  richness,  a  chasteness,  a  purity  about  it,  entirely 
unsurpassed.  It  is  computed  that  it  will  cost  thirty-five 
millions  of  dollars  to  rebuild  it. 

As  we  rode  back  we  stopped  on  the  Aventine  Hill,  where 
we  passed  through  two  nice  gardens,  and  had  fine  views  of 
the  city.  Here  we  visited  the  Church  of  St.  Alexius.  This 
Alexius  was  the  son  of  a  senator ;  he  went  to  the  Holy 
Land,  whence  he  returned  as  a  pilgrim,  and  without  reveal- 
ing his  name,  went  to  his  father's  house,  where  he  lived  on 
charity,  and  finally  died  under  the  staircase.  As  soon  as  he 
was  dead,  it  was  discovered  who  he  was ;  then  all  the  bells 
in  Rome  were  rung,  and  he  was  canonized  as  a  saint.  In 
honor  of  him  this  church  was  built,  and  within  it  is  a  splen- 
did tomb  erected  to  his  memory.  The  staircase  under  which 
he  died  was  put  into  a  glass  case,  and  is  now  actually  sus- 
pended over  his  tomb.  In  this  church  is  a  beautiful  little 
9* 


102  LETTERS. 

tabernacle  of  porphyry,  presented  by  the  King  of  Spain,  and 
costing,  it  is  said,  ten  thousand  dollars.  It  is  used  for  hold- 
ing the  consecrated  bread. 

After  we  came  back  into  the  city  we  stopped  at  the  Palazza 
Spada,  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  which  stands  a  large  statue 
of  a  warrior,  holding  a  globe  in  his  hand,  and  supposed  to 
be  the  very  statue  of  Pompey  at  whose  feet  "  great  Caesar  " 
fell.  Here  too  are  some  ancient  sculpture  and  fine  basso-re- 
lievo taken  from  the  Temple  of  Bacchus  ;  and  a  good  collec- 
tion of  paintings,  the  best  of  which  is  Dido  on  the  funeral 
pile,  for  which  the  owner  has  lately  been  offered  fourteen 
thousand  dollars. 

We  passed  near  the  Jews'  quarter  of  the  city,  and  as  I  felt 
desirous  to  see  it,  we  got  out  and  walked  around  for  some 
time.  It  is  entered  by  several  gates,  at  each  of  which 
guards  are  placed,  and  these  gates  must  all  be  closed  at  such 
a  time  in  the  evening,  (I  think  it  is  eight  o'clock,)  so  that 
no  one  can  pass  in  or  out  after  that  hour.  The  streets  are 
narrow  and  extremely  dirty.  I  saw  no  difference  in  the 
countenances  of  the  persons  1  met  from  the  Italians  in  gen- 
eral. We  entered  the  synagogue,  a  plain,  unpretending 
building,  where  two  or  three  men  were  sitting  with  their  hats 
on,  and  singing  in  Hebrew  some  of  the  Psalms  of  David. 
They  sang  in  turn,  and  after  one  had  finished  his  part,  he 
would  walk  about  and  talk  and  look  at  us  till  his  turn  came 
again.  They  seemed  very  polite,  and  would  have  been 
sociable,  if  we  could  have  understood  a  word  they  said,  or 
spoken  to  them  in  return.  Though  their  Sunday,  I  saw 
nothing  to  indicate  the  day  ;  in  the  streets  every  body  was 
busy  and  noisy,  though  I  think  some  shops  were  shut. 

After  dinner  we  rode  out  to  the  Villa  Borghese,  a  most 
charming  ride.  About  the  house  itself  there  is  nothing  very 
beautiful,  but  the  grounds  are  laid  out  in  exquisite  taste. 
Here  was  an  artificial  lake  surrounded  by  weeping  willows, 
and  there  a  grove  of  trees  so  dense  that  no  light  seemed  to 
penetrate  it,  and  farther  on,  an  open  glade,  in  the  centre  of 


LETTERS.  103 

which  a  fountain  was  sending  forth  its  lulling  sound.  Statues 
were  interspersed  here  and  there.  The  road  wound  around, 
shaded  with  fine  trees  ;  the  grounds  were  alive  with  car- 
riages, which  with  their  liveried  servants  swept  by  in  grand 
style.  We  met  several  cardinals  dressed  in  their  scarlet 
robes  of  office,  their  attendants  in  scarlet  livery.  We  saw  a 
prelate  who  had  left  his  carriage  and  was  strutting  about 
with  his  arms  behind  him  ;  he  looked  queerly  enough  in  his 
short  breeches  and  purple  silk  stockings,  and  having  a  scarf 
of  black  silk  falling  in  plaits  from  his  shoulders.  This  is 
the  dress  of  the  order.  They  are  of  a  rank  between  priests 
and  cardinals. 

We  returned  to  our  hotel  by  the  ride  on  the  Pincian  hill. 
Every  body  rides  out  here  towards  evening.  We  are  then 
just  through  dinner  and  tired  with  the  labors  of  the  day,  so 
that  we  find  a  ride  quite  refreshing.  In  passing  carriages 
here,  each  one  takes  the  left  side,  instead  of  the  right  as 
with  us. 

Sunday  evening. 
This  has  been  the  most  quiet  Sunday  we  have  had  since 
we  came  on  shore.  We  attended  service  this  morning  in  a 
hall  in  a  large  house  just  beyond  the  walls  of  the  city. 
Doubtless  his  '*  Holiness  the  Pope "  thinks  that  this  city, 
the  seat  of  the  holy  Catholic  faith,  would  be  contaminated 
by  allowing  Protestant  worship  within  its  precincts,  and  it 
was  only  after  repeated  application  through  the  British  am- 
bassador, that  the  privilege  of  having  service,  even  without 
the  walls,  was  granted.  We  enjoyed  the  services  much. 
The  hall  was  fitted  up  in  the  plainest  manner  with  common 
chairs  and  a  carpet,  but  we  felt  how  much  better  was  the 
pure  devotion  of  the  soul  in  such  a  place,  than  heartless 
ceremonies  in  a  church  adorned  with  all  the  splendor  that 
ancient  and  modern  times  can  produce.  We  heard  a  very 
good  sermon  from  an  English  clergyman,  at  present  residing 
in  Rome.     Both  here  and  in  Naples  we  were  obliged  to  pay 


104  LETTERS. 

for  our  seats.  No  one  is  allowed  to  go  in  without  a  ticket. 
At  first  this  seemed  singular  to  us,  that  strangers  should  thus 
have  to  contribute  towards  the  maintenance  of  public  wor- 
ship. But  on  farther  thought  it  appears  quite  right;  for 
it  is  entirely  dependent  for  support  on  foreigners,  there 
being  no  regularly  endowed  church. 

In  going  to  church  we  were  much  struck  with  the  stillness 
of  the  streets,  so  different  from  what  we  have  lately  been 
accustomed  to  see.  The  shops  were  all  closed,  save  those 
where  provisions  are  kept ;  no  others  are  allowed  to  be  open 
except  at  noon  and  after  sunset. 

After  dinner  we  attended  vespers  at  St.  Peter's,  grand 
and  majestic  St.  Peter's.  How  were  we  struck  with  awe  as 
we  gazed  upon  the  vast  pile  in  which  were  gathered  the 
wealth  of  ages,  and  the  greatest  treasures  art  has  ever  pro- 
duced. But  as  we  did  not  take  a  thorough  survey  of  this 
magnificent  church,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  you  any  de- 
scription of  it  now,  but  reserve  that  for  a  time  when  we  are 
better  acquainted  with  the  subject. 

We  heard  some  good  singing,  though  it  was  nothing  to  be 
compared  with  that  we  heard  last  Sunday  at  Naples.  My 
attention  was  attracted  by  seeing  multitudes  wending  their 
way  to  one  particular  part  of  the  church.  I  followed  too, 
and  what  do  you  think  was  the  charm  that  drew  them  there  ? 
It  was  a  bronze  statue  of  St.  Peter,  and  it  was  to  kiss  the 
foot  of  this,  that  the  crowds  were  hurrying  thither.  Men, 
women  and  children  united  in  this  act  of  homage,  and  even 
little  children,  too  small  to  reach  it,  were  lifted  up  in  their 
parents'  arms,  and  taught  to  kiss  the  hallowed  foot.  Some, 
as  they  approached,  laid  their  foreheads  upon  it  breathing 
out  a  low  prayer  at  the  same  time.  So  much  has  this  foot 
been  kissed  that  it  is  worn  quite  smooth  and  thin,  and  some 
even  say  that  it  is  but  a  little  time  since  a  new  foot  was 
added. 

I  saw  at  the  tomb  of  St.  Peter  a  cardinal  at  his  devotions. 
His  clothes  were  corded  with  red ;  he  had  on  a  red  cap,  and 


LETTERS.  105 

red  silk  stockings  buckled  up  over  his  knees.  Two  servants 
in  livery  followed,  one  bearing  a  crimson  cushion,  which  he 
placed  wherever  his  master  wished  to  kneel.  When  I  after- 
wards saw  him  roll  away  from  the  church  in  his  carriage 
decked  with  crimson  and  gold,  I  thought  how  unlike  his 
meek  and  lowly  Master  he  was.  Oh !  the  pride  of  the  hu- 
man heart !  Because  a  man  is  high  in  the  church,  he  must 
use  all  the  pomp  and  parade  of  an  earthly  monarch. 

But  now  is  it  not  quite  time  for  me  to  close  this  long  let- 
ter ?     So  good  bye. 


Rome,  Tuesday. 
My  dearest  F.  : 

Still  are  we  engaged  in  sight-seeing,  so  that  I  have  no 
time  to  write  except  at  night,  and  at  broken  intervals  through 
the  day,  when  we  are  kept  waiting  a  few  minutes  for  our 
breakfast  and  dinner,  or  for  the  carriage  to  come  for  us. 
We  are  never  out  late  in  the  evening,  as  the  night  air  is  con- 
sidered exceedingly  unhealthy.  The  evenings  and  nights 
are  very  cool,  even  after  a  day  of  intense  heat ;  so  we  keep 
pretty  closely  in  the  house  after  dark,  and  thus  I  secure  my 
evenings  for  writing. 

However  interested  one  may  be  in  seeing  strange  and 
wondrous  things,  yet  all  must  acknowledge  that  sight-see- 
ing is  fatiguing  business,  and  when  the  weather  is  as  sultry 
as  it  is  here  now,  it  is  doubly  oppressive.  However  I  anti- 
cipated all  this  when  I  left  the  quiet  of  my  home,  and  I  know 
that  all  my  fatigue  will  be  forgotten  when  T  return  there,  and 
can  tell  the  loved  ones  of  all  that  I  have  seen  and  heard  in 
"the  old  world."  My  home;  how  it  rises  up  before  me!, 
Shall  I  ever  see  my  home  again  ?     God  grant  that  I  may  ! 

Yesterday  morning  we  visited  the  ruins  of  "  the  Palace  of 
the  Caesars,"   which  was   begun   in  the  time  of  Augustus. 


106  LETTERS. 

These  are  very  extensive,  and  show  how  great  were  the 
wealth  and  splendor  of  the  ancient  Romans.  The  walls  in 
many  places  are  in  an  excellent  state  of  preservation,  and 
serve  to  show  the  size  of  the  palace  in  its  earlier  days. 

Then  we  went  to  the  Baths  of  Caracalla,  which  is  an  enor- 
mous building,  the  outer  walls  of  which  alone  remain.  In 
the  vi^alls  of  the  rooms  used  for  the  vapor  bath,  the  holes  are 
yet  remaining  through  which  the  steam  formerly  came.  The 
water  was  conducted  into  the  building  by  aqueducts,  but 
long,  rank  grass  now  covers  the  enclosure.  There  were 
formerly  sixteen  hundred  bathing  places ;  the  floors  were 
paved  with  mosaics,  the  walls  adorned  with  pillars  and  stat- 
ues, but  these  have  all  been  removed  to  the  Museum. 

We  next  visited  an  ancient  tomb  which  has  been  discov- 
ered only  about  seven  months.  The  outer  walls  are  modern, 
and  are  covered  with  various  inscriptions,  figures  and  frag- 
ments of  figures  found  around  the  tomb.  We  descended  to 
the  interior  by  a  flight  of  steps,  and  found  ourselves  in  a 
square  room,  the  walls  of  which  were  full  of  small  niches,  in 
which  were  the  urns,  containing  the  ashes  of  the  dead. 
There  were  nine  rows  of  these  niches,  and  in  the  centre  of 
the  room  was  a  solid  square,  in  the  sides  of  which  were  other 
niches,  so  that  there  were  about  five  hundred  in  all.  lu 
most  of  these  were  two  urns,  so  that  one  thousand  persons 
might  be  buried  in  this  place,  which  if  their  bodies  were 
entombed  as  in  these  days,  would  scarcely  accommodate 
more  than  a  hundredth  part  of  that  number.  The  urns  were 
all  of  common  materials,  and  in  the  most  of  them  were  yet 
remaining  ashes  and  pieces  of  bones.  It  seems  that  at  this 
time  it  was  the  universal  practice  to  burn  the  dead,  and  to 
gather  up  and  preserve  the  remains. 

We  went  to  the  Church  of  St.  Sebastiano,  under  which  are 
the  ancient  catacombs.  We  went  down  by  the  light  of  can- 
dles, each  of  us  carrying  a  large  wax  candle  in  our  hands. 
What  a  damp,  dismal  looking  place  it  was !  Passages  cut 
out  of  the  rock  led  hither  and  thither  in  every  direction, 


LETTERS.  1 07 

these  catacombs  extending  several  miles.  These  passages 
were  originally  made  by  the  Romans,  for  the  purpose  of  ob- 
taining the  veins  of  sand  which  were  found  in  this  tufo,  or 
species  of  soft  rock.  In  these  dark  and  subterranean  abodes 
the  early  Christians  hid  themselves  when  the  fires  of  perse- 
cution waxed  hot  under  the  different  emperors.  Here  their 
dead  were  buried,  and  here  they  worshipped  the  living  God 
in  secrecy  and  safety.  The  graves  of  their  loved  ones  were 
their  altars,  the  low  arched  passages  their  temple,  and  their 
music  was  the  soft,  low  song  of  praise  coming  from  the  lips 
of  those,  who  braved  danger  and  even  death  for  their  Mas- 
ter's sake. 

There  are  places  cut  in  the  rocks  for  the  bodies  of  the 
dead,  as  after  the  Christian  era  it  v/as  more  customary  to 
bury  than  to  burn.  Some  of  these  places  are  covered  by 
slabs  of  marble,  others  are  left  entirely  open. 

Here  saints  in  later  times  have  come  to  worship.  Two 
or  three  different  spots  were  pointed  out  to  us  by  the  priest 
who  acted  as  our  guide,  where  crosses  had  been  erected,  a 
tomb  used  as  an  altar,  a  narrow  recess  as  a  chapel,  and  there 
prayers  had  been  offered  and  penance  performed. 

It  is  said  that  a  professor  and  forty  students  were  once  lost 
in  these  winding  passages,  and  no  remains  of  them  ever  dis- 
covered. They  were  in  search  of  anatomical  specimens. 
The  air  is  close  and  damp  here,  so  we  all  felt  quite  relieved 
when  once  more  in  the  upper  regions. 

In  returning  we  passed  by  the  Circus  of  Romulus,  a  large 
enclosure,  the  walls  of  which  still  remain.  Here  the  horse 
and  chariot  races  formerly  took  place.  There  are  ruins  of 
rooms  and  towers,  probably  those  appropriated  to  the  empe- 
rors and  their  guards. 

We  once  more  rode  without  the  walls  and  visited  the 
Church  of  St.  John.  We  first  went  to  the  Baptistery  of  Con- 
stantine,  a  circular  building,  the  dome  of  which  is  supported 
by  beautiful  pillars  of  porphyry.  Two  or  three  steps  lead 
down  to  the  font  which  is  cf  basalt,  in   shape  of  a  bathing 


108  LETTERS. 

ing  tub,  and  surmounted  by  an  urn  of  bronze.  The  inside 
of  the  dome  is  lined  with  paintings,  illustrating  the  history 
of  St.  John,  while  around  the  walls  are  larger  pictures,  rep- 
resenting the  vision  of  the  cross  by  Constantine,  his  battle 
with  Maxentius,  and  his  baptism.  Out  of  the  baptistery  is  a 
little  chapel,  over  the  threshold  of  which,  I,  being  a  female, 
was  not  permitted  to  pass ;  nobody  seemed  to  know  why, 
probably  for  the  same  wise  reason  I  was  kept  out  of  one  at 
Genoa.  I  would  have  entered,  but  John  seemed  in  great 
consternation  about  it,  saying  that  if  I  did  I  should  be  ex- 
communicated by  the  Pope,  but  I  told  him  he  had  no  power 
over  me  and  that  I  defied  his  excommunication.  He  then 
began  to  tell  a  number  of  direful  stories  about  persons  that 
had  been  excommunicated,  so  that  "  silenced  but  not  con- 
vinced," I  desisted.  This  little  chapel  was  guarded  by  large 
doors  of  brass,  which  when  swung  back  and  forth,  made  a 
noise  resembling  the  sound  of  an  organ,  particularly  the 
trumpet  tones. 

The  Church  of  St.  John  is  vastly  inferior  to  that  of  St, 
Paul.  The  pillars  are  plastered,  but  as  they  are  hung  with 
velvet  and  their  bases  are  marble,  the  defect  is  not  observed. 
In  niches  in  one  part  of  the  church  are  statues  of  the  twelve 
apostles,  which  are  admirably  done.  The  high  altar  is 
adorned  with  four  large  pillars  of  brass  gilded  over,  while  on 
the  altar  is  a  beautiful  little  tabernacle  formed  of  rare  mar- 
bles, and  adorned  with  pillars  of  porphyry,  and  studded  with 
precious  stones. 

In  a  little  chapel  in  this  church  is  the  very  table  where  our 
Lord  ate  the  last  supper  with  his  twelve  disciples.  It  is  of 
cedar,  about  four  feet  square,  and  is  kept  enclosed  in  a  glass 
case.  How  this  table  was  ever  found  and  brought  here  from 
Judea  is  a  question  not  easily  answered.  One  thing  struck 
us  all  on  seeing  it,  namely,  in  all  the  paintings  of  "  the  Last 
Supper"  the  table  is  always  represented  as  long  and  narrow, 
while  this  is  quite  square.  Now  it  seems  strange  that  since 
this  table  has  been  here  so  long,  and  there  have   been   so 


LETTERS.  109 

many  painters  in  Italy,  that  its  shape  has  never  been  trans- 
ferred to  canvass.  However,  painters  are  licensed,  and  so 
for  that  matter  are  the  priests  in  this  country,  and  I  believe 
they  tell  some  huge  stories  sometimes,  though  perhaps  they 
believe  them. 

Opposite  to  this  church  is  a  chapel  containing  "  the  holy 
staircase,"  said  to  have  been  the  very  steps,  down  which 
Christ  went,  when  going  to  the  judgment  hall  in  the  palace 
of  Pontius  Pilate,  and  brought  here  from  Jerusalem.  These 
steps  are  of  white  marble,  and  are  twenty-five  in  number, 
and  no  one  is  allowed  to  go  up  or  down,  except  on  his  knees, 
and  so  much  has  this  been  done,  that  they  have  become 
quite  worn,  and  are  now  covered  with  wood.  We  saw  one 
priest  ascending  on  his  knees ;  he  stopped  at  each  step  and 
muttered  a  prayer.  At  the  head  of  this  staircase  are  two  of 
the  very  nails  with  which  Christ  was  fastened  to  the  cross, 
but  the  sacred  relics  are  hidden  from  the  public  eye. 

In  the  square,  front  of  the  church,  is  an  obelisk,  covered 
with  hieroglyphics.  It  is  the  largest  one  in  Rome,  and  was 
brought  from  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  in  Thebes  by  one  of  the 
sons  of  Constantine. 

If  you  are  not  quite  tired  of  churches,  come  with  me  to 
one  other,  and  then  I  will  relieve  you  from  accounts  of  any 
more,  at  least  for  a  day  or  two.  This  is  the  Church  of  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore.  The  nave  is  separated  from  the  other  part 
of  the  church  by  thirty-six  pillars  of  white  marble.  There 
are  some  beautiful  paintings  here,  but  I  was  really  too  tired 
to  notice  them  much..  T  call  your  attention  to  this  church 
more  particularly  to  tell  you  a  little  anecdote  concerning  its 
origin,  and  that  you  may  see  on  what  slight  pretexts  churches 
are  here  built.  Two  priests  in  one  night  dreamed  the  same 
dream,  namely,  that  in  a  particular  place  the  Virgin  appeared 
to  them,  and  that  at  the  time  of  her  appearance  snow  fell. 
The  next  morning,  they  both  proceeded  to  the  spot  desicr- 
nated  in  the  dream,  and  there  surely  was  snow  most  plainly 
to  be  seen,  which  from  its  coming  in  the  summer  was  at 
10 


110 


LETTERS. 


once  pronounced  a  miracle.  The  Pope  therefore  instantly 
proclaimed  it  holy  ground,  he  and  all  the  cardinals  going 
around  it  in  solemn  procession,  and  on  this  very  spot  a 
church  was  soon  after  erected,  which  for  some  time  was 
called  "  St.  Mary  of  the  Snow." 

And  now  let  me  take  you  back  once  more  to  the  ruins. 
Let  us  stop  and  visit  the  Colosseum,  the  most  magnificent  of 
all  the  ruins  of  ancient  Rome.  It  is  an  immense  edifice  of 
oval  form,  and  is  five  stories  high ;  the  lower  story  however 
is  partly  sunk  in  the  ground.  The  arena,  so  called  from  the 
sand  scattered  on  the  enclosure,  to  absorb  the  blood  shed 
there  so  freely,  is  in  the  centre  and  is  also  of  an  oval  form, 
being  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  feet  by  one  hundred  and 
eighty-two  feet.  Around  this  runs  a  wall  separating  it  from 
the  seats  of  the  spectators.  In  this  wall  were  ^oors  barred 
with  iron  leading  to  the  dens  of  the  different  wild  beasts, 
and  through  which  they  passed  into  the  arena.  The  seats 
of  the  spectators  rose  one  above  another  in  widening  circles, 
till  they  reached  the  top.  The  lower  seats  were  occupied  by 
the  emperors  and  their  households,  the  priests  and  the  officers 
of  the  city,  and  the  others  in  succession  by  the  diflerent 
ranks  of  the  people.  Three  rows  of  arched  corridors  ran 
round  on  the  outside,  and  every  third  arch  had  a  staircase, 
each  distinct  class  of  the  inhabitants  having  a  separate  en- 
trance. There  was  no  roof,  an  awning  being  placed  over 
the  top  in  unpleasant  weather. 

It  was  built  by  Vespasian  and  Titus  and  was  finished  about 
the  year  80  of  the  Christian  era.  The  games  at  the  dedica- 
tion of  this  amphitheatre  lasted  one  hundred  days,  when  it 
is  said  that  five  thousand  wild  beasts  and  several  thousand 
gladiators  were  slain.  In  after  times  many  a  Christian  was 
thrown  into  that  arena  to  meet  death  from  the  wild  beasts, 
their  only  crime  being  that  they  served  a  God  superior  to 
any  the  Romans  knew  and  worshipped.  Multitudes  of  people 
crowded  this  edifice  to  witness  these  barbarous  sports ;  in 
fact  it  is  said  that  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  persons 


LETTERS.  Ill 

could  there  be  accommodated  with  seats.  How  strange  it  is 
that  people  showing  the  marks  of  civilization  and  refinement 
of  the  ancient  Romans,  should  have  delighted  in  such  shows, 
and  yet  it  is  a  well  authenticated  fact  that  all  classes  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  yea  and  even  soft  and  delicate  wo- 
men, nursed  in  luxury  and  splendor,  were  constant  attend- 
ants at  such  places. 

Many  of  the  arches  of  this  stupendous  edifice  are  now 
broken  down,  and  the  stones  have  been  used  in  building  up 
the  present  city  ;  nay  it  is  said  that  more  than  half  the  pa- 
laces in  modern  Rome  have  been  built  from  the  ruins  of  the 
Colosseum.  Other  arches  remain  entire,  now  overgrown 
with  moss  and  ivy.  From  crevices  in  the  stone  peep  out 
little  wild  flowers,  and  shrubs  and  even  trees  spring  from 
different  parts  of  the  ruins.  Several  of  the  passages  from  the 
arena  are  now  fitted  up  as  chapels,  and  even  in  the  centre  of 
the  very  arena  itself,  where  once  blood  was  poured  out  like 
water,  are  an  altar  and  a  crucifix. 

We  have  spent  this  day  in  visiting  the  Vatican.  A  week 
might  be  well  spent  there,  and  even  then  all  the  curiosities 
could  not  be  seen.  Almost  every  room  has  its  own  guide, 
and  he  hurries  you  so  from  one  object  to  another,  that  almost 
before  you  know  it  you  are  out  of  one  room  and  in  another. 
You  approach  the  rooms  open  to  the  public,  by  a  magnifi- 
cent marble  staircase.  At  each  landing  there  is  a  fountain, 
the  water  running  into  a  marble  basin.  The  collection  in 
the  Vatican,  for  real  beauty,  far  surpasses  that  in  the  Muse- 
um in  Naples.  There  are  not,  to  be  sure,  here  as  there,  the 
rich  mosaic  floors  and  tables,  the  gems  and  precious  stones, 
the  great  variety  of  domestic  utensils  and  furniture,  which 
borrow  their  chief  interest  from  the  fact  of  having  been 
brought  from  Pompeii,  but  the  statuary  here  is  much  more 
splendid,  and  in  a  better  state  of  preservation.  I  cannot 
tell  you  the  half  of  what  I  saw.  I  might  spend  an  hour  just 
in  giving  you  the  names,  and  even  then  the  greatest  part 
would  be  left  unsaid. 


112  LETTERS. 

We  first  went  into  a  room  where  several  were  at  work  on 
mosaics.  This  kind  of  painting  is  done  by  putting  together 
small  pieces  of  a  kind  of  glass,  called  composition.  These 
are  of  all  colors  and  shades,  and  when  properly  arranged 
form  a  splendid  picture,  upon  which  time  has  but  little  effect. 
The  workman  has  his  piece  before  him  on  an  easel ;  he  has 
on  one  side  his  pattern,  and  on  the  other  his  stones,  and  a 
little  machine  for  grinding  them  and  filing  them  to  the 
necessary  shape.  This  is  slow  work,  a  common-sized  por- 
trait occupying  four  or  five  months.  In  another  room  they 
were  polishing  the  pictures,  and  this  occupies  about  another 
month.  In  a  long  room,  arranged  in  cases,  are  more  than 
ten  thousand  different  pieces  of  these  stones.  In  other  cases 
is  a  small  piece  of  each  color,  each  piece  having  on  it  the 
number  of  the  case  in  which  are  the  large  pieces  of  the 
same  color,  so  that  the  workman  has  only  to  find  out  what 
color  he  wants,  then  go  to  the  case  specified  on  the  number, 
and  so  procure  with  ease  whatever  he  needs. 

We  then  went  into  the  galleries  filled  with  sculpture, 
where  are  statues  of  nearly  all  the  Roman  emperors,  of  gods 
and  goddesses,  of  poets  and  orators,  all  most  perfect  speci- 
mens of  that  most  beautiful  art,  sculpture.  Then  there  were 
marble  sarcophagi,  (I  was  on  the  point  of  saying  without 
number,)  covered  with  bas-reliefs,  baths,  vases,  basins  of 
porphyry  and  polished  granite,  pillars  of  giallo  antico  and 
precious  marbles,  in  short  every  thing  that  is  rich  and  beau- 
tiful. Here  too  was  something  I  have  never  before  seen, 
animals  sculptured  in  marble,  horses,  bulls,  lions,  crocodiles, 
eagles,  cows  and  goats,  nor  must  I  forget  a  litter  of  pigs  and 
two  or  three  turtles  of  black  marble.  In  a  sarcophagus  of 
porphyry  we  saw  a  mummy,  in  a  good  state  of  preservation. 
In  other  rooms  were  Etruscan  vases,  jewels,  rings,  bracelets, 
&>c.,  very  similar  to  those  we  saw  in  Naples.  But  the  gem 
of  the  whole  collection  is  the  celebrated  group  of  the  Lao- 
coon.  This  represents  a  father  and  two  sons  encircled  by  a 
serpent.     The  expression  of  their  faces  is  really  agonizing, 


LETTERS.  113 

and  that  of  the  father  seems  to  haunt  me  even  now,  so  full 
of  woe,  so  full  of  pain  is  it.  The  serpent's  fangs  are  thrust 
into  his  side.  His  mouth  is  open  as  though  a  scream  of 
anguish  was  just  issuing  from  it.  Well  may  this  group  be 
called  inimitable. 

Through  the  hall  of  paintings  we  were  so  hurried,  that 
we  had  time  merely  to  glance  at  this  magnificent  collection, 
where  are  some  of  the  finest  specimens  of  Raphael's  genius. 
The  walls  of  several  of  the  rooms  were  designed  by  him,  and 
painted  after  his  death  by  his  pupils.  One  of  his  paintings 
is  done  on  a  window,  and  represents  an  angel  appearing  to 
St.  Peter  in  prison,  and  so  natural  is  it,  that  I  could  hardly 
persuade  myself  that  I  did  not  actually  see  a  barred  window, 
with  the  prison  walls,  and  the  room  illuminated  by  the  pres- 
ence of  the  angel. 

In  the  Library  in  the  Vatican  is  one  of  the  finest  collections 
of  books  in  the  world,  consisting  of  eighty  thousand  printed, 
and  twenty-five  thousand  manuscript  volumes.  The  walls  of 
the  rooms  are  covered  with  the  most  beautiful  fresco  paint- 
ings, but  as  I  have  already  said  so  much  about  pictures,  I 
will  pass  over  these  in  silence.  Among  the  manuscripts  we 
saw  a  large  illuminated  Bible,  written  in  Latin,  a  work  of 
Virgil,  a  book  on  natural  history,  illustrated  by  paintings  by 
Raphael,  and  some  letters  from  Henry  VIH.  to  Anne  Bc- 
leyn,  and  her  answers  to  them,  which  letters  were  mighty 
loving. 

We  walked  for  awhile  in  the  garden  belonging  to  the  pal- 
ace, where  we  saw  one  beautiful  work  of  art,  the  pedestal  of 
some  ancient  pillar  (I  believe  of  Antoninus  Pius,)  sculptured 
in  bas-relief 

In  the  garden  were  several  fountains.  One  was  a  ship  in 
a  large  basin  of  water,  and  from  all  parts  of  the  ship  water 
poured  out  in  little  jets,  forming  a  beautiful  as  well  as  a 
novel  fountain.  While  looking  at  this  we  were  told  to  hurry, 
and  while  we  ran  hither  and  thither,  without  knowing  what 
we  were  running  for,  little  springs  of  water  darted  up  out  of 
10* 


114 


LETTERS. 


the  ground.  This,  we  were  told,  is  quite  a  favorite  amuse- 
ment with  the  Pope.  When  he  has  visitors,  he  takes  them 
into  the  garden,  and  while  they  are  busily  looking  at  the 
little  ship,  he  gives  the  signal,  and  these  little  fountains 
spring  up  out  of  the  earth,  and  give  them  a  gentle  ducking, 
which  causes  the  "  holy  father"  to  laugh  heartily,  greatly  to 
the  horror  of  Mr.  T.,  who  was  scandalized  to  think  the  Pope 
could  laugh. 

On  coming  to  our  room,  quite  tired  with  our  days'  excur- 
sion, how  were  we  cheered  by  finding  a  letter  from  you. 
None  but  those  who  have  travelled  in  foreign  lands,  know 
the  joy  caused  by  news  from  loved  ones  left  behind.  And 
so  with  a  happy  heart,  I  bid  you  good  night. 


Rome,  Wednesday  eve. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Well,  whom  do  you  think  we  have  seen  to-day?  No  less 
a  personage  than  Pope  Gregory  XVI.  Having  heard  that 
high  mass  was  to  be  performed  to-day  in  the  Church  of  San 
Filippo,  at  which  the  Pope  and  many  of  the  cardinals  would 
officiate,  we  took  the  precaution  of  engaging  seats  before- 
hand, and  by  paying  a  small  sum  to  one  of  the  attendant 
priests,  he  promised  us  places  where  we  could  see  all  the  cere- 
monies. Accordingly  we  went  soon  after  breakfast,  that  we 
might  be  in  season.  The  gentlemen  obtained  good  places 
down  stairs,  while  I  was  conducted  up  a  narrow  staircase  to 
a  little  gallery,  directly  in  front  of  the  high  altar.  I  did  not 
have  a  front  seat,  but  by  standing  up  in  a  chair,  I  found  I 
could  look  all  over  the  church.  No  ladies  are  allowed  to  go 
into  any  church  where  the  Pope  is  present,  without  a  veil, 
so  I  bought  me  a  thin  lace  one  as  I  went  to  church.  This 
I  fixed  over  my  bonnet  in  such  a  manner  as  to  leave  me  a 
little  loop-hole  through  which  I  could  look,  and  in  fact  no 


LETTERS.  115 

sooner  did  the  services  begin,  than  it  dropped  off,  and  I  took 
no  pains  to  replace  it,  as  I  did  not  imagine  my  being  veiled 
or  not  could  produce  any  effect  upon  the  Pope.  After  wait- 
ing a  long  time,  I  saw  preparations  for  the  commencement 
of  the  service.  As  I  rose  in  my  chair,  a  lady  near  me  touched 
me,  and  said  a  few  words  in  Italian.  Though  I  partially 
comprehended  what  she  said,  I  could  not  muster  words 
enough  to  answer  her.  Seeing  me  hesitate,  she  said,  "  Speak 
English?"  On  my  saying  "yes,"  she  turned  and  spoke  in 
Italian  to  another  lady,  who  instantly  came  to  me  and  began 
talking  with  me  in  English.  She  asked  me  if  I  had  never 
seen  the  Pope,  and  if  I  was  '*  a  Catholic,"  and  on  hearing 
my  answer,  she  went  and  spoke  to  the  man  who  kept  the 
door  of  the  gallery,  upon  which  he  came  and  told  the  ladies 
in  front  that  I  was  a  stranger,  and  that  they  must  make  room 
for  me,  which  they  cheerfully  did,  and  thus  I  had  a  fine  op- 
portunity to  view  all  the  ceremonies.  She  stood  beside  me 
all  the  time,  and  told  me  who  the  different  individuals  were. 
First  came  in  about  twenty  cardinals,  having  on  scarlet  silk 
robes ;  each  had  a  priest  behind  him,  bearing  his  train, 
which  was  several  yards  long.  They  proceeded  to  a  chapel 
on  one  side  of  the  high  altar,  where  they  arranged  them- 
selves in  two  rows.  Then  came  the  Pope,  dressed  in  a  robe 
of  white  satin  spotted  with  gold.  He  was  borne  into  the 
church  in  a  splendid  chair,  covered  with  crimson  velvet,  on 
the  shoulders  of  twelve  men,  dressed  entirely  in  red.  On 
either  side  of  him  was  a  man  bearing  a  huge  fan  of  ostrich 
feathers  to  keep  the  flies  off  "  his  Holiness'  "  nose,  which,  by 
the  way,  is  a  large  one.  He  was  set  down  before  the  chapel, 
into  which  he  entered,  and  walking  up  between  the  cardi- 
nals, he  knelt  at  the  altar,  they  throwing  themselves  on  their 
knees  at  the  same  time.  Then  they  came  out  of  the  chapel, 
the  Pope  having  four  attendants  to  hold  up  his  train,  and 
knelt  before  the  high  altar.  The  Pope  then  seated  himself 
in  a  chair  covered  v/ith  white  satin,  under  a  crimson  canopy, 
and  the  cardinals  sat  on   either  side  below  him.     A  tempo- 


lib  LETTERS. 

rary  altar,  covered  with  white  satin,  was  placed  at  the  foot 
of  the  steps  of  the  high  altar,  with  a  kneeling  cushion  of 
the  same  for  the  Pope,  and  here  he  knelt  at  those  parts  of 
the  services  that  required  kneeling.  After  he  was  seated,  the 
cardinals  went  up,  one  by  one,  their  long  trains  sweeping 
the  floor.  They  knelt  before  him,  kissed  his  hand,  bowed 
low,  and  then  swept  off  again,  their  attendants  catching  up 
their  trains  with  a  great  deal  of  dexterity,  as  they  descended 
the  steps.  Then  followed  the  mass,  in  which  there  was  as 
usucd  a  great  deal  of  bowing  and  kneeling,  each  one  not 
only  kneeling  in  passing  the  altar,  but  also  in  going  by  the 
Pope. 

Two  or  three  times  a  book  was  carried  to  him  by  one  of 
the  officiating  priests  who  knelt  as  he  approached,  and  re- 
mained kneeling  all  the  time  he  held  the  book,  while  the 
Pope  read  a  few  sentences  in  a  weak  tone  of  voice.  Two 
attendants  constantly  stood  beside  him,  one  handed  his 
pocket-handkerchief  whenever  he  needed  it,  and  raised  the 
cap  from  his  head  whenever  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  be 
uncovered ;  the  other  kept  opening  his  robe  every  time  any 
one  approached,  so  that  the  cross  on  his  shoes  were  seen.  I 
saw  but  one  man  kiss  this  cross,  and  he  seemed  one  of  the 
lower  order  of  priests. 

The  martial  music,  the  pomp  and  parade,  the  soldiers 
scattered  all  over  the  church,  made  it  seem  more  like  a  mil- 
itary or  theatrical  display  than  a  religious  ceremony.  People 
were  constantly  coming  in,  gazing  round,  and  then  going 
out  again,  showing  no  appearance  of  devotion.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  ceremonies,  the  Pope  stood  up  and  blessed  the 
people,  who  all  threw  themselves  on  their  knees.  After 
silently  kneeling  a  few  moments,  the  cardinals  passed  out, 
and  then  followed  the  Pope  in  his  chair,  attended  by  his 
Swiss  guard.  I  never  saw  any  thing  so  fantastic  as  their 
uniform.  They  wear  a  kind  of  frock  reaching  to  the  knees, 
composed  of  alternate  stripes  of  red,  blue  and  yellow,  low 
hats  with  a  large  red  feather,  double  ruffles  round  the  neck, 


LETTERS.  117 

such  as  were  worn  in  diieen  Elizabeth's  time,  a  broad  yel- 
low shoulder-belt,  in  which  is  stuck  a  small  sword,  and  they 
carry  in  their  hands  a  long  wooden  spear  tipped  with  iron, 
just  below  the  top  of  which  is  an  axe  in  the  form  of  a  cres- 
cent. 

We  came  out  of  the  church  and  stood  in  the  street,  to  see 
the  procession  pass  by.  The  ground  was  covered  with  a 
species  of  yellow  sand,  all  the  way  from  the  church  to  the 
Vatican.  This  is  always  strewn  in  the  streets  through  which 
the  Pope  passes  when  he  attends  any  particular  church.  The 
windows  of  the  houses  round  the  Church  of  San  Filippo 
were  hung  with  rich  damask.  The  bells  of  the  church  rang 
and  the  drums  beat,  while  the  procession  was  passing.  First 
came  the  "noble  guard"  on  horseback.  This  is  composed 
of  the  sons  of  the  nobility  and  of  the  first  families  in  Rome. 
They  always  precede  the  Pope  when  he  rides  out,  to  see  that 
there  are  no  obstructions  in  the  way.  Then  followed  a  priest 
bearing  the  cross,  on  a  snow  white  mule  covered  with  black 
trappings.  Then  came  the  Pope's  carriage,  surrounded  by 
the  Swiss  guard  on  foot.  This  was  drawn  by  six  black 
horses,  all  their  harnessing  being  covered  with  figured  crim- 
son velvet.  They  were  not  driven,  but  ridden  by  three  pos- 
tillions dressed  in  crimson  livery.  The  carriage  was  all 
crimson  and  gold,  large  plates  of  glass  set  in  gilt  frames 
forming  the  doors  and  windows.  It  was  lined  with  crimson 
velvet.  On  the  back  seat  sat  "  the  holy  father,"  a  mild, 
pleasant  looking  old  man,  who  bowed  with  much  affability 
as  he  passed  along,  all  the  people  in  the  streets  kneeling. 
Then  followed  a  similar  carriage,  in  which  was  the  major- 
domo  or  head  of  his  household.  Then  came  the  long  line 
of  cardinals,  princes,  prelates  and  senators,  in  splendid  car- 
riages, each  having  four  or  six  attendants.  It  was  certainly 
the  grandest  sight  I  ever  saw,  and  it  was  well  worth  standing 
out  in  the  hot  sun  a  whole  hour. 

Do  not  think  we  came  home  even  after  so  long  a  cere- 
mony.    No !  there  are  too  many  things  yet  to  be  seen  in 


IIS  LETTERS. 

Rome  for  that,  so  we  stopped  at  the  Pope's  Palace  on  the 
Quirinal  Hill,  though  he  seldom  stays  here,  choosing  to  re- 
side at  the  Vatican  the  most  of  the  time.  At  present  it  is 
occupied  by  the  Swiss  guard  and  some  attendants.  It  is  an 
immense  building,  though  we  were  shown  only  the  suite  of 
rooms  appertaining  to  the  Pope.  They  were  furnished  with 
a  plainness  that  surprised  me,  though  two  or  three  of  the 
rooms  had  a  simple  elegance  about  them.  Some  had  walls 
hung,  and  furniture  covered  with  crimson  velvet;  some  had 
marble  floors,  others  stone,  and  two  or  three,  polished  oak. 
The  Pope's  bed-chamber  was  lined  with  crimson,  and  the 
covering  of  the  bed  was  silk  of  the  same  color.  The  bed 
was  of  straw,  as  being  a  monk,  his  profession  does  not  allow 
him  to  sleep  on  any  thing  else.  At  each  end  of  his  bed  was 
a  bust,  one  of  Christ,  the  other  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  both  by 
Canova. 

The  collection  of  paintings,  though  not  large,  is  about  the 
finest  of  any  I  have  yet  seen.  Here  were  Raphael's  first 
sketch  of  the  Transfiguration,  several  pieces  by  the  Caracci, 
a  splendid  Madonna  and  infant  Jesus  by  Rubens,  and  many 
others  by  the  first  masters.  In  the  small  private  chapel  of 
the  Pope  was  an  Annunciation  by  Guido,  said  to  be  one  of 
the  best  pictures  in  Rome.  The  expression  of  meekness, 
yet  of  holy  joy  on  the  Virgin's  face,  as  the  angel  announces 
to  her,  that  she  shall  be  the  mother  of  the  Saviour,  is  most 
beautiful. 

But  how  surprised  were  we  to  enter  a  room,  lined  with 
paintings  and  adorned  with  a  large  crucifix,  to  find  it  was 
the  billiard  room  of  the  Pope  !  ''  What !  "  I  said,  "  the  '  holy 
father,'  the  head  of  the  church,  the  representative  of  Christ, 
the  successor  of  St.  Peter,  a  monk  of  the  strict  order  of  St. 
Gregory,  amuss  himself  with  playing  billiards  !  "  Really  I 
was  horror-stricken,  and  told  John  he  ought  to  be  excom- 
municated. 

In  this  palace  is  the  Pauline  Chapel,  famous  as  being  the 
place  where  the  cardinals  meet  in  conclave  to  choose  a  Pope 


LETTERS.  119 

when  there  is  a  vacancy  in  the  office.  Here  they  are  shut 
up,  and  allowed  to  have  no  intercourse  with  any  one  till  the 
election  is  made.  Once  they  were  secluded  here  three 
months  before  a  Pope  was  chosen.  A  little  stove  is  behind 
the  altar,  in  which  the  votes,  when  not  sufficient  for  an  elec- 
tion, are  burnt ;  the  smoke  seen  warns  the  people  that  no 
choice  is  made.  If  some  time  elapses,  and  no  smoke  is  seen, 
the  people  gather  around  the  palace  in  crowds,  to  know  who 
the  Pope  is  to  be.  As  soon  as  it  is  decided,  one  of  the 
cardinals  goes  out  on  the  balcony  and  announces  the  name 
of  the  new  Pope.  The  signal  is  then  given  to  the  Castle  S't. 
Angelo,  and  salutes  are  fired,  or  as  John  expressed  it,  "  they 
shoot  the  guns,"  and  all  the  bells  of  the  churches  are  rung. 
The  new  Pope  is  seated  in  the  chair  ;  the  cardinals  kiss  his 
foot,  and  then  lead  him  to  the  balcony,  where  he  blesses  the 
people.  The  Emperor  of  Austria  and  the  Kings  of  France 
and  Spain  have  a  right  to  veto  the  choice.  So  when  a  Pope 
is  chosen,  word  is  sent  to  the  ambassadors  from  those  courts, 
and  they,  being  beforehand  instructed,  say  whether  or  not 
such  a  choice  will  be  sanctioned.  Thus  there  was  once  a 
cardinal  elected  to  the  popedom.  He  had  been  much  in 
Spain,  and  had  there  done  many  cruel  acts,  so  when  he  was 
chosen  Pope,  the  Spanish  ambassador  said  his  king  would 
not  allov/  the  election,  and  he  was  excluded.  The  Cardinal 
Albano  was  once  chosen,  but  the  Emperor  of  Austria  did 
not  approve  the  choice,  and  he  too  was  set  aside.  I  derived 
this  information  concerning  the  election  of  a  Pope  from 
John,  who  seems  well  versed  in  civil  and  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory, but  I  have  no  books  by  me,  to  which  I  can  refer,  so  I 
cannot  tell  if  any  part  of  the  statement  is  untrue. 

With  whom  do  you  think  we  had  the  pleasure  of  dining 
to-day  ?  For  fear  you  may  be  racking  your  brain  to  think  of 
some  distinguished  person  we  would  be  likely  to  meet,  I 
hasten  to  relieve  your  anxiety,  and  tell  you  it  was  a  "  colored 
gentleman."  Not  more  than  eight  or  ten  dine  with  us;  our 
own  party  of  Americans,  two  or  three  English  gentlemen,  a 


12#  LETTERS. 

young  and  intelligent  Italian  priest,  and  a  consul  from 
Greece,  who,  with  his  wife  and  son,  are  on  their  way  to  Lon- 
don. To-day,  just  as  I  took  my  place  at  table,  the  Greek 
came  in,  followed  by  his  wife  and  son  and  this  black  man. 
As  I  looked  up  I  thought  he  was  a  servant,  and  wondered 
that  at  a  table  where  we  had  such  excellent  attendance,  a 
private  waiter  should  be  needed  ;  but  what  was  my  surprise 
to  see  the  Greek  give  him  a  seat  between  himself  and  his 
son !  I  believe  I  started.  I  glanced  towards  the  English 
gentlemen,  and  as  they  did  not  seem  to  notice  it  at  all,  I 
thought,  why  should  1  ?  So  I  resolved  to  eat  my  dinner  in 
peace,  though  I  confess  I  could  not  help  occasionally  glanc- 
ing at  this  descendant  of  Ham,  who,  by  the  way,  sat  directly 
opposite  me.  He  conversed  fluently  with  his  party  in  French, 
spoke  to  the  waiters  in  Italian,  and  I  found  out,  was  ac- 
quainted with  English  too,  for  on  a  discussion  arising  be- 
tween one  of  our  party  and  an  English  gentleman  in  relation 
to  a  celebrated  picture,  I  ventured  to  dissent  from  him,  and 
to  say  that  it  was  in  a  different  palace  from  what  he  main- 
tained it  to  be,  when  my  ''opposite  neighbor"  bov»ing  very 
politely  to  me  said,  "  Madame  is  right."  I  saw  nothing  in 
his  manners  but  what  were  perfectly  as  they  should  be,  so- 
ciable without  presumption,  polite,  but  without  affectation. 

We  have  been  much  amused  with  two  of  our  company  at 
table,  both  Englishmen.  One  has  lately  been  to  the  East, 
at  least  as  far  as  Alexandria,  and  in  discoursing  to  his  com- 
panion of  the  discomforts  attending  such  a  journey,  said,  "  if 
ever  I  go  to  the  East  again,  I  think  it  will  be  in  my  own 
yacht."  The  expression  and  tone  with  which  he  said  this 
were  perfectly  inimitable ;  I  can  give  you  no  idea  of  them 
on  paper. 

Our  ride  this  evening  was  to  the  Villa  Pamphylia.  We 
spent  an  hour  in  walking  round  the  grounds,  which  are 
beautifully  laid  out.  The  trees  are  kept  trimmed  in  the 
most  regular  manner,  so  as  to  form  a  complete  hedge.  The 
walks  are  broad  and  well  shaded,  and  there  is  such  a  variety 


LETTERS.  121 

of  scenery  as  to  render  it  charming.  At  one  moment  we 
were  in  an  open  glade,  at  another  in  a  thick  wood ;  now  all 
was  rustic  and  wild,  then  every  thing  was  cultivated  and  ar- 
tificial. All  around  were  fountains  of  various  forms  and 
designs.  One  was  in  the  centre  of  a  lake  fed  by  an  artificial 
river.  We  passed  under  the  river  through  a  perfect  little 
tunnel.  Altogether  I  think  this  is  the  most  charming  spot 
we  have  yet  seen,  though  I  suppose  you  will  begin  to  think 
that  I  say  this  of  every  place ;  but  please  remember  that  I 
have  never  before  had  an  opportunity  to  visit  countries, 
where  so  much  wealth  and  taste  are  expended,  both  on  pub- 
lic and  private  buildings. 

But    ''hark!    the   midnight  bell  is  pealing!"    and  that 
warns  me  to  stop ;  so  adieu.  As  ever,  yours. 


Rome,  Friday  evening. 
My  dear  : 

And  now  for  St.  Peter's.  Do  not  think  because  I  have 
spoken  but  little  of  this  church,  that  we  have  been  so  many 
days  in  Rome  without  going  but  once  to  see  this  wonder  of 
the  world.  We  have  generally  gone  in  once  a  day,  and 
spent  a  little  time  in  gazing  upon  the  masterpieces  of  art 
there  collected,  but  yesterday  we  devoted  several  hours  to  it, 
and  even  then  saw  but  a  small  part  of  it,  and  I  doubt  not  if 
we  should  go  every  day  for  several  weeks  that  we  should  find 
something  new  each  time. 

In  going  to  St.  Peter's  from  our  hotel,  we  crossed  the 
"  yellow  Tiber,"  by  the  bridge  of  St.  Angelo,  at  the  end  of 
which  stands  the  Mausoleum  of  Adrian,  now  converted  into 
a  fort,  and  called  *'  Castle  St.  Angelo,"  from  a  fio-ure  of  the 
archangel  Michael  standing  on  its  summit.  It  is  an  im- 
mense circular  building,  and  was  formerly  surrounded  by  a 
portico  supported  by  one  hundred  pillars,  which  are  now  a 
11 


122  LETTERS. 

part  of  the  Borghese  palace.     One  would  scarcely  imagine 
in  looking  at  this  solid  edifice,  that  it  was  built  for  a  tomb. 

The  approach  to  St.  Peter's  is  magnificent.  It  stands  on 
a  gentle  eminence,  having  in  front  an  open  space  called  here 
"  a  piazza,"  in  the  centre  of  which  is  an  Egyptian  obelisk, 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high.  This  formerly  stood  in 
the  Circus  of  Nero,  but  under  Pope  Sextus  V.  was  removed 
hither.  By  great  labor  and  much  ingenuity  this  pillar  was 
placed  on  the  pedestal  on  which  it  now  stands,  but  after  it 
was  almost  raised  to  a  perpendicular,  it  was  found  that  it 
would  go  no  farther.  Silence  had  been  commanded  in  or- 
der that  the  signals  might  be  heard  by  the  workmen,  and 
although  crowds  stood  in  the  streets,  not  the  softest  whisper 
was  heard ;  though  consternation  sat  on  every  face,  at  this 
apparent  failure,  no  one  dared  give  utterance  to  his  thoughts, 
when  suddenly  a  sailor  from  among  the  crowd  cried  out, 
"  wet  the  ropes."  Two  soldiers  instantly  darted  upon  him, 
and  took  him  into  custody,  but  not  before  his  suggestion  had 
been  acted  upon,  and  to  the  great  joy  of  the  spectators  the 
pillar  was  fixed  firm  and  fast.  The  sailor  was  released  and 
a  reward  given  him. 

On  each  side  of  the  obelisk  are  two  beautiful  fountains, 
whose  incessant  play  of  waters  fills  the  air  with  their  music. 
Two  magnificent  colonnades  begin  at  the  front  of  this 
piazza,  and  sweep  around  in  a  semicircle,  till  they  are  stop- 
ped by  the  walls  of  the  church.  Three  hundred  and  fifty 
pillars  support  this  colonnade,  there  being  sufficient  space 
between  two  rows  of  the  pillars,  to  admit  of  two  carriages 
passing  each  other.  On  the  top  of  the  colonnade  are  two 
hundred  statues.  On  the  right  hand  of  the  church  is  the 
immense  palace  called  the  Vatican. 

But  the  church  itself,  how  shall  I  attempt  to  give  you  an 
idea  of  this  the  most  magnificent  church  in  the  world  ?  for, 
considering  its  vastness,  its  rich  marbles,  its  noble  statues 
and  beautiful  paintings,  the  length  of  time  consumed  in 
building  it  and  the  wealth  expended  on  it,  it  may  indeed  be 


LETTERS.  123 

called  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world.  It  presents  a  broad 
majestic  front,  but  has  one  striking  defect,  it  is  not  high 
enough  for  its  breadth,  so  that  the  cupola  (or  rather  cupolas 
for,  in  addition  to  the  large  dome  there  are  several  small 
ones)  does  not  show  to  good  advantage  when  near  the  church. 
After  ascending  a  few  steps,  we  pushed  aside  a  curtain  and 
stood  at  once  within  this  vast  pile.  Our  eyes  roamed  around, 
and  we  stood  as  it  were  entranced.  Our  first  impression  in 
relation  to  the  size  of  the  church  was,  that  it  had  been  over- 
estimated ;  so  perfect  are  its  proportions  that  you  cannot  re- 
alize that  it  is  more  than  six  hundred  feet  long,  and  it  was 
not  till  I  had  repeatedly  walked  across  it  that  these  erro- 
neous impressions  were  corrected. 

So  great  was  the  number  of  objects  that  attracted  our  at- 
tention that  I  scarcely  know  where  to  begin  to  describe  them 
to  you.  All  the  pictures  in  the  church  are  mosaics,  copies 
of  the  works  of  the  first  masters,  but  as  these  are  mostly 
behind  the  altars,  which  are  covered  with  candlesticks,  vases 
of  flowers  and  trinkets,  their  beauties  are  partially  obscured, 
and  I  have  therefore  given  but  little  attention  to  them,  but 
have  spent  the  most  of  the  time  in  gazing  upon  the  sculpture 
and  statuary  which  are  here  found  in  perfection.  How  I 
love  to  look  upon  these  masterpieces,  and  see  them  in  all 
their  matchless  beauties.  Strange  art,  that  can  make  a 
piece  of  marble  thus  bear  the  lineaments  of  the  human  face 
and  form,  and  express  all  the  passions  and  aifections  of  the 
immortal  soul  !  There  is  one  monument,  'which  I  have 
stopped  to  admire,  every  time  I  have  been  in  the  church.  I 
never  tire  of  looking  at  it,  but  at  each  new  survey  discover 
some  new  beauty.  On  the  front  is  the  inscription,  which 
tells  that  it  was  raised  to  commemorate  the  death  of  three 
brothers.  On  each  side  of  this  is  sculptured  in  bold  relief, 
an  angel  as  large  as  life,  holding  an  extinguished  torch,  and 
weeping  as  over  the  fate  of  the  loved  and  lost.  They  are  so 
chaste,  so  simple  in  their  beauty,  their  faces  are  downcast 
and  so  overwhelmed  with  sorrow,  that  one  almost  weeps  in 


134  LETTERS. 

looking  at  them.  This  was  done  by  one  of  the  finest  sculp- 
tors the  world  ever  saw,  Canova. 

In  one  of  the  numerous  little  chapels  in  this  church,  is  a 
noble  piece  of  work  by  the  prince  of  sculptors,  Michael  An- 
gelo,  representing  the  Virgin  Mary,  holding  in  her  arms  the 
Saviour,  just  taken  from  the  cross.  It  is  rather  a  singular 
design,  though  perfectly  executed.  In  the  figure  of  "  the 
dead  Christ,"  the  limbs  are  stiffened,  the  hands  and  feet  hang 
down,  and  the  whole  bears  all  the  appearance  of  death.  But 
the  face  of  the  stricken  mother  !  Oh,  so  fall  of  anguish  is 
it,  that  it  seems  a  perfect  fulfillment  of  that  prophecy — "  Yea 
a  sword  shall  pierce  through  thy  own  soul  also." 

The  tomb  of  Clement  XIII.  is  adorned  by  sculpture,  by 
Canova.  On  the  top  is  a  kneeling  statue  of  that  Pope  ;  be- 
low are  two  figures,  representing  Charity  and  Religion, 
guarded  by  two  lions  beautifully  carved. 

Another  monument  is  that  of  Paul  III.,  designed  by  Mi- 
chael Angelo,  and  finished  by  one  of  his  scholars.  The 
figures  represent  Justice  as  an  old  woman,  and  Prudence  as 
a  young  girl,  which  last  was  so  preeminently  beautiful,  that 
several  fell  in  love  with  it,  so  that  it  was  found  necessary  to 
have  it  robed ;  accordingly,  a  drapery  of  bronze  is  thrown 
around  it. 

There  are  many  other  monuments  adorned  with  sculpture, 
but  perhaps  I  have  already  said  too  much  on  this  subject,  so 
I  will  forbear. 

At  the  head  of  the  nave  is  the  tomb  of  St.  Peter,  support- 
ed by  large  pillars  of  bronze,  and  surrounded  by  a  balustrade 
of  marble.  In  front  of  this  tomb  more  than  one  hundred 
lamps  are  kept  constantly  burning.  Behind  this  is  the  tri- 
buna,  the  canopy  of  which  is  supported  by  four  figures  of 
bronze  representing  the  four  canons  of  the  church.  Beneath 
this  canopy  is  the  chair  of  St.  Peter.  When  any  Pope  has 
been  in  office  twenty-four  years,  he  is  seated  in  this  chair, 
and  canonized  as  a  saint.  I  asked  John  if  any  one  had  ever 
been  raised  to  this  dignity.  He  said  no  one  but  St.  Peter 
himself. 


LETTERS.  125 

We  will  now,  if  you  please,  go  up  to  the  top  of  this  church, 
and  you  may  be  thankful  that  your  part  of  the  task  can  be 
accomplished  on  paper,  and  not  by  the  labor  we  were  oblig- 
ed to  put  forth. 

From  the  lower  part  of  the  church  to  the  roof,  the  ascent 
is  very  easy.  Instead  of  stairs,  there  is  a  paved  way,  which 
winds  around  within  the  walls  of  the  church,  so  that  occa- 
sionally donkeys  are  used  for  going  up.  It  was  not  till  we 
walked  over  the  roof  of  St.  Peter's  that  we  realized  how  im- 
mense an  edifice  it  was.  It  seemed  like  a  little  city.  As  I 
told  you  before,  besides  the  large  dome  there  are  two  smaller 
ones,  and  in  addition  to  these,  the  ceilings  of  several  of  the 
chapels  rise  up  in  little  domes.  Under  the  shelter  of  some 
of  these,  and  protected  from  the  sun  and  rain  by  an  awning, 
live  two  or  three  families,  the  children  of  which  seemed  per- 
fectly at  home  in  their  airy  dwelling,  and  were  running 
around  the  domes  with  great  glee. 

Within  the  large  dome  are  two  galleries,  from  the  lower 
one  of  which,  being  nearly  two  hundred  feet  from  the  floor, 
we  looked  down  into  the  church.  How  insignificant  the 
large  pillars  looked,  the  monuments  dwindled  away,  and  the 
people  walking  about  seemed  like  pigmies.  The  walls  of 
this  gallery  are  lined  with  mosaics.  Here,  as  in  the  ruined 
temple  at  Baioe,  there  was  a  perfect  whispering  gallery,  the 
lowest  whisper  being  distinctly  heard  at  opposite  sides. 

From  the  roof,  the  stairs  begin,  and  here  began  the  labor. 
They  were  narrow,  and  in  many  places  steep.  However,  we 
took  it  as  leisurely  as  we  could,  stopping  at  both  of  the  gal- 
leries within  the  dome.  The  upper  one  is  two  hundred  and 
forty  feet  above  the  floor.  We  were  so  high  up  then  that 
even  with  my  glass  I  could  see  nothing  distinctly.  We  did 
not  content  ourselves,  however,  with  getting  so  far,  but  actu- 
ally climbed  up  within  the  very  ball  on  top  of  the  dome,  four 
hundred  feet  from  the  ground.  This  was  the  toughest  part 
of  all,  for  we  were  obliged  to  climb  up  a  perpendicular  iron 
ladder.  Poor  Mr.  D.,  who  is  quite  a  large  man,  found  it  a 
11* 


126  LETTERS. 

tight  squeeze,  and  after  all  this,  what  could  we  see  ?  Nothing 
but  the  inside  of  a  brass  ball,  which,  though  looking  like  a 
mere  speck  from  below,  is  in  reality  large  enough  to  hold  a 
dozen  men.    The  air  was  insufferably  hot,  and  we  were  glad 
to  get  out  of  so  close  a  place.     All  that  I  had  for  my  fatigue 
was  the  consciousness  that  I  had  been  where  few  ladies  ever 
venture.     We  then  came  down  to  the  gallery  on  the  outside 
of  the  dome,  where  we  had  a  grand  view  of  the  city  and  the 
villas   around.     The  whole  city  lay  like  a  map  at  our  very 
feet,  while   the   country,  with  its  hills   and  green  valleys, 
stretched  around  like  a  garden.     While  gazing  on  this  pano- 
rama and  enjoying  the  cool   breeze,  which  was  delightful 
after  the   close,  hot   air   within  the  ball,   John   espied  the 
Pope's   carriage  in  the   court  of  the  Vatican,  so  down  we 
thouorht  we  must  go.     Not  takinor  into  consideration  the  old 
maxim,  that  "  great  bodies  move  slowly,"  and  that  some  time 
must  elapse  before  so  large  a  retinue   as  generally  attends 
distinguished  personages   could  be  got  ready,  we  hurried 
down   as  fast   as  our  wearied  limbs  would  permit  us,   till 
heated  and  flushed,  we  arrived  once  more  on  the  roof    And 
how  many  steps  do  you  think  we  went  up   from  the  roof  to 
the  ball  ?     Why,  four  hundred  and  twelve  !     We  stopped  on 
the  roof  to  get  the  cool  air,  and  then,  seeing  that  the  carriage 
still  remained  before  the  door  of  the  palace,  we  once  more 
took  a  leisurely  survey  of  objects   around.     On   one  side  of 
the  church  we  saw  a  large,  gloomy  looking  building.  I  asked 
John  what  it  was.     He  lowered  his  voice   and  whispered, 
''the  Inquisition."     We  asked  if  we  could  not  enter  it.     He 
said,  "  Gh  yes !  very  easily  ;  only  say  or  do  something  against 
the  established  religion,  or  the  State  government,  and  you 
will  find  a  speedy  entrance."     In  vain  I  told  him  I  did  not 
fear  —  that  the  power  of  my  own  country  would  protect  me. 
Enlightened  as  he  is  on  many  subjects,  and  superior  in  many 
respects  to  the  prejudices  of  his  countrymen,  he  has  a  great 
fear  of  the  power  of  those  high  in  authority.     He  assured  us 
that  even  now  men  sometimes  disappeared,  and  no  one  knew 


LETTERS.  127 

what  had  become  of  them,  and  that  there  was  no  doubt  they 
were  there  imprisoned,  or  even  put  to  death.  Only  a  few 
months  since,  a  courier  suddenly  disappeared,  and  nobody 
knew  or  even  dared  to  guess  where  he  was,  but  as  he  was  a 
wicked  man,  he  was  probably  seized  and  carried  to  the  In- 
quisition. 

But  now  there  was  a  movement  in  the  palace  court,  that 
warned  us  to  depart,  so  we  once  more  descended  to  the  in- 
side of  the  church,  and  went  out  and  stood  on  the  steps  to 
see  the  show.  First  came  one  of  the  noble  guard,  on  horse- 
back, then  a  carriage  in  which  were  some  of  the  officers  of 
the  household ;  at  a  little  distance  behind  followed  more  of 
the  noble  guard,  and  then  came  the  splendid  carriage  of  the 
Pope,  the  postillions  and  footmen  being  dressed  in  crimson 
satin.  The  Pope  had  on  a  red  dress,  and  a  broad  brimmed 
red  hat,  turned  up  at  the  sides.  As  the  carriage  came  near, 
the  people  in  the  streets  knelt,  all  but  our  party;  we  of 
course  stood.  The  time  once  was  when  even  foreigners,  and 
Protestants  too,  were  compelled  to  kneel  when  the  emblems 
of  the  Romish  religion  were  carried  through  the  streets;  but 
a  more  enlightened  day  has  come,  and  that  custom  has  passed 
by.  Perhaps  you  will  think  the  Pope  would  not  notice  an 
insignificant  female  like  me ;  but  you  are  quite  mistaken,  for 
he  looked  full  at  me,  bowed  low,  and  waved  his  hand,  while 
I  made  one  of  my  best  bows.  He  bowed  also  to  the  rest  of 
our  party,  who,  with  hats  in  hand,  and  wearing  their  most 
pleasant  looks  and  smiles,  stood  a  little  farther  on. 

Afterwards  came  still  others  of  the  guard,  and  several  of 
the  cardinals  in  their  carriages.  And  here  just  let  me  say, 
that  whenever  a  cardinal  passes  along  the  streets,  the  men 
take  off  their  hats,  and  the  soldiers  present  arms. 

We  stopped  to  see  a  church,  (I  did  not  even  ask  the  name 
of  it,)  where  there  is  a  very  miraculous  virgin,  that  is,  the 
statue  of  one,  round  which  lamps  are  constantly  kept  burn- 
ing. Many  individuals  were  kneeling  before  it,  who  all 
kissed  the  foot  of  the  statue  before  and  after  kneeling.     It 


128  LETTERS. 

was  really  astonishing  to  see  the  eagerness  with  which  men 
and  women  would  press  forward  to  kiss  this  piece  of  marble. 
Young  children  too  were  brought  in  their  parents'  arms,  and 
made  to  put  their  little  lips  on  this  holy  foot/  But  most  of 
all  was  I  suprised  to  see  old,  grey-headed,  intelligent  looking 
men,  go  up  and  press  their  aged  lips  and  wrinkled  foreheads 
upon  the  foot  of  this  statue.  Can  it  be  that  a  man  of  any 
mind  can  be  a  slave  to  such  superstitions  1  Many,  too,  would 
dip  their  fingers  into  the  oil  of  one  of  the  lamps  that  was 
burning  before  this  shrine,  and  then  with  their  greasy  fingers 
make  on  their  foreheads  and  necks  the  sign  of  the  cross. 
Had  I  not  seen  these  things,  and  seen,  too,  the  air  of  devo- 
tion and  seriousness  with  which  they  were  done,  I  never 
could  have  believed  them. 

But  the  statue  in  itself  was  a  great  curiosity  ;  its  head, 
neck,  arms  and  hands  were  actually  covered  with  jewels. 
The  most  splendid  necklace,  sparkling  with  diamonds,  hung 
round  its  neck,  bracelets  in  profusion  graced  the  arms,  while 
the  most  dazzling  diamond  rings  shone  on  every  finger. 
These  were  presents  from  those  who  believed  this  saint  had 
helped  them,  either  by  restoring  them  to  health,  or  assisting 
them  out  of  some  embarrassments.  Two  priests  have  the 
care  of  this  statue,  and  they  actually  receive  twenty  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  candles  every  year  as  presents  to  this  shrine. 
Oh  !  the  mind  sickens  to  see  such  degradation  in  this  en- 
lightened age  !  When  will  this  people  throw  off  these  shackles 
imposed  upon  them  by  the  priests  ?  Alas !  I  fear  not,  this 
many  a  year. 

We  rode  this  evening  once  more  to  the  Pincian  Hill,  on 
one  part  of  which  is  a  garden,  tended  by  prisoners.  They 
are  led  here  by  soldiers  in  the  morning,  each  one  having  a 
chain  passing  from  one  leg  to  the  other.  In  Naples  we  often 
saw  prisoners  at  work.  There  they  were  always  chained, 
two  by  two,  from  ancle  to  wrist.  It  always  makes  me  shud- 
der to  see  these  condemned  ones. 

Last  evening  I  had  the  curiosity  (no  strange  thing  for  a 


LETTERS.  129 

Yankee,)  to  count  the  number  of  priests  we  met  in  our  ride, 
and  I  counted  no  less  than  three  hundred  and  twenty-two. 
Had  I  counted  those  I  met  in  the  churches  in  the  afternoon, 
they  must  have  numbered  at  least  six  hundred. 

We  met  also  several  of  the  nobility  of  Rome,  w'hom  John 
pointed  out  to  us,  among  whom  were  the  Prince  of  Corsini 
and  his  mother,  a  Count,  whose  ancestors  can  be  traced  back 
to  the  very  earliest  period  of  Roman  history,  and  the  Prince 
Borghese  and  his  little  daughter,  a  handsome  girl  of  seven 
years.  The  Prince  was  in  deep  mourning,  having  lost  his 
wife  last  autumn.  He  married  a  daughter  of  the  Eno-lishEarl 
of  Shrewsbury,  and  paid  half  a  million  dollars  as  her  dowry. 
Quite  a  price  for  a  wife  ! 

This  morning  we  did  not  go  out  very  early,  for  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  (though  it  is  rather  a  delicate  subject  to  write 
about,)  we  have  scarcely  had  a  night's  good  sleep  since  we 
have  been  in  Rome,  nay,  for  that  matter,  I  may  say,  since  we 
have  been  in  Italy,  for  that  class  of  animals  called  by  Lorenzo 
Dow,  "  the  hungry  night-walkers,"  have  so  preyed  upon  our 
flesh,  as  some  nights  utterly  to  deprive  us  of  rest.  And  yet 
our  hotel  is  one  of  the  best  in  the  city.  There  must  be 
something  in  the  climate,  for  I  am  told  that  private  families, 
and  the  very  Pope  himself,  suffer  from  the  same  annoyance. 

We  visited  this  morning,  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  degli 
Angeli,  built  on  the  foundation  of  Dioclesian's  baths.  In 
fact,  one  of  the  apartments  forms  the  upper  end  of  the  cross. 
The  pavement  is  of  marble,  and  contains  a  meridian,  with 
all  the  signs  of  the  zodiac.  The  light  comes  through  a  small 
opening  on  the  walls,  and  in  such  a  month  the  sun  is  in  such 
a  sign.  What  a  singular  ornament  for  a  church.  There 
are  some  most  beautiful  paintings;  one  by  Pompeo  Battini, 
representing  the  fall  of  Simon  Magus.  It  is  one  of  the 
grandest  paintings  in  all  Rome.  The  figures  stand  out  in 
such  bold  relief,  that  at  a  little  distance  they  look  like  statues. 
In  this  church  lie  Salvator  Rosa  and  Carlo  Maratti.  Need 
I  say  they  have  monuments  in  their  works  more  lasting  than 
marble? 


130  LETTERS. 

We  then  went  to  the  gallery  of  the  Palace  Seiara,  where 
the  collection  though  not  large  is  very  good.  The  first  pic- 
ture we  saw  was  by  Caravaggio,repre3enting  three  men  playing 
cards.  One  is  young  and  innocent ;  the  second  is  older  and 
has  a  face  full  of  wickedness,  as  he  peeps  over  the  shoulder 
of  the  young  man,  to  get  a  look  at  his  cards ;  while  the  third 
who  holds  some  cards  behind  him,  has  a  look  of  low  cun- 
ning. The  whole  group  is  inimitable ;  the  unsuspecting, 
innocent  face  of  the  first,  the  artifice,  the  wickedness  ex- 
pressed in  the  countenances  of  the  others,  combine  to  make 
this  one  of  the  best,  because  one  of  the  most  expressive, 
pictures  1  have  ever  seen.  Here  too  were  a  fine  Madonna 
and  child ;  a  Cleopatra  lying  on  a  bed,  holding  the  asp  to  her 
bosom  ;  Moses,  by  Guido,  in  the  act  of  breaking  the  Tables 
of  the  Law,  a  most  splendid  picture,  the  face  so  expressive 
of  indignation  mingled  with  grief;  a  Magdalen,  by  the  same 
painter ;  several  pictures  by  Titian,  Guercino,  Bassano,  Lan- 
franco ;  many  landscapes  by  Poussin,  and  some  by  Claude 
Lorraine,  whose  pictures  are  characterized  by  beautiful 
scenery,  fine  coloring  and  the  softest  and  most  glowing  skies. 
But  most  of  all  was  I  charmed  with  a  painting  by  Leonardo 
da  Vinci  of  two  females,  representing  Modesty  and  Vanity, 
Vanity  has  a  handsome  face,  but  a  simple,  self-conceited, 
coquettish  look.  Her  hair  is  nicely  dressed  and  adorned 
W'ith  ornaments,  while  in  one  of  her  beautiful  hands  is  a 
little  sprig,  which  she  holds  as  if  about  to  put  it  in  some  part 
of  her  dress.  Her  robes  are  rich  and  so  arranged  as  to  dis- 
play her  bust  to  the  finest  advantage.  Directly  opposite  to 
her  stands  Modesty,  dressed  in  the  plainest  manner,  with  a 
veil  thrown  over  her  head  and  covering  hatf  of  her  person. 
She  has  the  sweetest,  gentlest,  most  angelic  face.  We  sat 
down  and  gazed  upon  it,  and  when  at  last  compelled  to  leave 
it,  turned  a  longing  look  behind,  to  catch  one  more  glimpse 
of  that  sweet,  downcast  face.  This  picture  is  by  many 
amateurs  called  the  finest  in  Rome,  nay  even  in  the  whole 
world. 


LETTERS.  131 

I  do  not  know  but  you  are  quite  tired  of  pictures,  but 
really  I  must  tell  you  of  one  or  two  more  collections,  and 
then  I  shall  have  done,  at  least  till  we  get  to  Florence.  In 
the  gallery  of  the  Doria  Palace  is  a  most  superb  collection. 
The  gallery  runs  round  a  large  court,  and  is  literally  lined 
with  paintings ;  of  course  I  cannot  begin  to  give  you  any 
account  of  them,  neither  am  I  sure  that  you  would  wish  it. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  we  saw  there  some  of  the  choicest 
works  of  art.  The  two  principal  landscape  painters  are  Sal- 
vator  Rosa  and  Claude  Lorraine.  Yet  how  entirely  unlike 
is  the  character  of  their  productions,  those  of  Rosa's  being 
distinguished  by  wild  and  fearful  scenes,  while  those  of 
Claude's  are  soft  and  beautiful.  By  far  the  best  picture  in 
the  Doria  gallery,  at  least  in  our  eyes,  was  "  a  Holy  Family," 
by  Sassoferrato,  a  name  I  had  never  before  heard.  The  face 
of  the  Virgin  is  most  perfect,  so  soft,  so  tender,  as  she  gazes 
down  upon  the  infant  Jesus,  who  lays  with  his  sweet  childish 
face  upturned  on  her  bosom.  Beside  them  was  Joseph, 
whose  manly  face  and  form  compared  well  with  the  rest  of 
the  picture.  After  making  the  circuit  of  the  rooms,  I  could 
not  forbear  going  back  to  gaze  again  on  this  picture,  before 
leaving  it  forever. 

One  more  picture,  and  I  have  done.  Not  but  what  there 
are  countless  others  that  I  might  tell  you  about,  but  for  fear 
of  wearying  you  I  desist,  or  else  you  would  well  think  me  as 
enthusiastic  on  the  subject  as  the  Italians  themselves.  But 
to  the.  painting ;  it  is  a  fresco  in  the  Palace  Rospigliosi, 
(there's  a  hard  word  for  you,)  painted  by  Guido,  by  some 
considered  the  finest  fresco  in  Rome.  Byron  says  it  is  worth 
a  visit  to  Rome  just  to  see  that.  It  represents  Aurora  seat- 
ed in  her  car,  drawn  by  four  horses,  riding  on  the  clouds, 
while  before  her  horses  is  a  nymph  bearing  flowers  in  her 
hand.  Nymphs  are  dancing  all  round,  and  a  little  Cupid  is 
flying  over  the  car  with  a  torch  in  his  hand.  The  figures 
and  faces  are  beautiful,  and  the  coloring  fine.  Being  on  the 
ceiling,  however,  it  is  not  seen  to  good  effect.     And  now  I 


133  LETTERS. 

bid  farewell  to  the  magnificent  paintings  of  Rome.  They 
have  unfolded  a  new  world  of  beauty  to  my  eyes,  hitherto  un- 
accustomed to  behold  such  works  of  art.  I  thought  when  I 
first  began  visiting  these  galleries,  that  I  should  soon  tire  of 
seeing  so  many  pictures,  but  the  effect  is  quite  the  contrary. 
The  mind  in  this  respect  grows  with  "  what  it  feeds  upon," 
and  I  have  already  learnt  to  tell  different  artists  by  their 
works,  and  to  have  my  favorites  even  among  so  many  choice 
ones,  where  it  seems  difficult  to  select.  Let  me  call  your 
attention  to  one  more  church,  and  then  I  have  done  with 
churches.  I  never  before  realized  the  effect  of  church  ar- 
chitecture upon  the  mind,  so  fully  as  I  have  done  since  I 
have  been  in  this  country.  Although  consecrated  to  a  dif- 
ferent faith  from  what  I  profess,  yet  I  have  never  had  my 
feelings  more  kindled  to  devotion,  than  some  time  when  to- 
ward sunset  I  have  found  myself  within  some  vast  pile, 
where  there  was  naught  to  break  the  stillness  but  the  sound 
of  our  own  footsteps.  A  solemn  awe  would  come  upon  my 
spirit.  In  the  "  dim  religious  light,"  cast  by  the  last  beams 
of  the  sun,  I  have  gazed  up  the  long  aisles,  and  in  the 
deep  shadow  of  a  pillar  caught  the  glimpse  of  a  white  statue, 
and  it  seemed  like  a  spirit,  pure  and  gentle,  hovering  over 
the  place. 

But  the  church  about  which  I  began  to  speak  has  far  dif- 
ferent claims  upon  our  attention  than  architectural  merits. 
In  fact  I  did  not  notice  those  at  all,  so  that  I  cannot  even 
tell  in  what  style  it  is  built.  Nay  we  did  not  stop  at  all  in 
the  church,  but  went  down  a  dark  stairway  into  the  very 
cell  where  St.  Peter  was  imprisoned.  This  is  no  story  got 
up  by  the  Romanists  to  attract  attention,  but  a  historical 
fact,  for  this  is  no  other  than  the  celebrated  Mammertine 
prison,  where  Jugurtha,  an  African  king,  was  confined,  con- 
demned to  die  of  hunger.  There  are  two  rooms,  one  over 
the  other,  but  both  under  ground.  They  are  about  twenty- 
five  feet  long.  It  was  in  the  lower  dungeon  that  the  apostle 
was  confined,  till  led  forth  to  suffer  martyrdom.     A  stone 


LETTERS.  133 

pillar  is  shown,  to  which  he  was  bound,  and  near  tliis  is  a 
small  spring  of  water,  which  tradition  says  burst  forth  sud- 
denly, at  a  time  when  he  wished  to  baptize  his  jailors  and 
some  of  his  fellow-prisoners.  It  is  said,  I  can't  tell  how 
truly,  that  forty-seven  persons  were  confmed  in  this  small 
room  at  the  same  time.  There  is  in  the  roof  of  each  cell  an 
aperture  sufficiently  large  to  admit  the  body  of  a  man,  and 
it  is  supposed  that  it  was  through  this  that  the  prisoners 
were  let  down  and  drawn  up,  as  there  are  no  remains  of  an 
ancient  staircase,  only  of  a  narrow,  secret  one  by  which  the 
jailors  used  to  go  down  to  carry  food.  It  is  a  dark,  damp, 
dreary  looking  place,  with  no  opening  to  admit  the  blessed 
air  and  light  of  heaven.  I  can  form  some  idea  of  all  the 
primitive  Christians  had  to  endure  under  the  persecution  of 
wicked  emperors,  when  I  visit  such  ancient  prisons,  and  the 
damp,  unwholesome  catacombs  where  for  months  they  were 
excluded  from  the  fresh  air. 

And  now  let  us  change  the  scene  and  once  more  go  forth 
out  of  the  walls  of  modern  Rome,  till  we  find  ourselves  in 
the  open  country.  The  sun  is  almost  setting,  and  looking 
on  the  roseate  clouds  and  the  soft  landscape  around  us,  we 
walk  through  a  field,  where  the  tall  grass  waves  almost  over 
our  heads,  till  we  come  to  a  wooded  dell,  and  then  pass  into 
a  cool  grotto,  where  we  hear  the  soft  music  of  gushing  water. 
It  comes  from  a  little  fountain,  beside  which  is  a  recumbent 
statue,  supposed  to  be  of  the  goddess  Egeria,  and  it  is  said, 
that  it  was  within  this  retreat,  that  Numa  came  to  consult 
that  nymph.  It  is  a  charming  spot,  and  well  suited  for  those 
vv'ho  seek  retirement  and  contemplation  after  being  wearied 
with  the  cares  of  this  "working-day  world." 

As  we  came  back  to  our  hotel,  we  stopped  at  a  cafe  where 
we  got  some  delicious  ices,  somewhat  resembling  our  ice 
cream,  though  still  quite  different.  We  did  not  get  out  of 
our  carriage,  but  sat  there  and  ate  them,  while  there  were 
a  dozen  carriages  around  us,  their  occupants  engaged  in  the 
12 


134  LETTERS. 

like  pleasant  manner.  And  thus  have  passed  the  last  two 
days,  the  records  of  which  are  before  you.  I  leave  you  now 
awhile.     As  ever,  yours. 


Rome,  Saturday. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

As  we  went  to  the  Postoffice  this  morning  to  deposit  my 
last  letter,  we  met  a  great  many  boys  running,  and  men  ap- 
parently in  haste,  as  though  some  extraordinary  event  had 
happened,  and  then  one  or  two  bells  in  the  neighborhood 
struck  up  a  merry  peal.  Of  course  this  attracted  our  atten- 
tion, and  we  turned  to  John  for  an  explanation.  A  lottery 
had  just  been  drawn,  and  this  was  the  cause  of  all  the  com- 
motion. The  boys  were  messengers  from  the  office ;  they 
carried  little  slips  of  paper  on  which  were  written  the  prize 
numbers.  Wherever  they  went  they  were  stopped  by  men, 
women  and  children,  who  were  anxious  to  see  if  by  chance 
they  had  drawn  a  prize.  Some  of  the  faces  wore  a  saddened 
look,  some  an  indifferent,  don't-care-for-any-thing  expression, 
while  others  seemed  to  say,  "  well,  I  have  lost  this  time, 
but  I  '11  try  again."  John,  it  appeared,  had  some  tickets,  for 
he  was  on  the  look-out  for  one  of  the  messengers,  but  his 
were  not  among  the  favored  few.  These  lotteries  belong  to 
the  State,  and  are  drawn  here  every  second  Saturday,  and  in 
Florence  on  the  alternate  weeks.  I  noticed  many  lottery 
offices  in  Naples.  Both  there  and  here  the  price  for  tickets 
is  low,  and  I  do  not  doubt,  but  that  many  of  the  people  who 
sit  by  the  way-side  and  beg  money  from  passers-by,  spend  a 
part  of  what  they  get  in  this  species  of  gambling. 

There  are  more  beggars  here  than  I  have  yet  seen  in  any 
one  city.  Some  of  them  wear  medals,  showing  that  they  are 
licensed  beggars.  A  few  of  these,  however,  have  to  work  a 
little  every  day,  and  at  such  an  hour  they  assemble  in  certain 
places,  and  the  officer  who  has  the  oversight  of  them  gives 


LETTERS.  135 

them  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  one  or  two  pauls  a  day,  (a  paul  is 
ten  cents  of  our  money.)  But  the  queerest  beggars  are  those 
who  wear  the  habit  of  a  monk,  and  have  a  cloth  drawn  down 
over  their  faces,  with  two  holes  cut  out  for  the  eyes,  which 
are  all  that  is  seen.  On  the  top  of  this  cloth  mask  is  wrought 
"  the  skull  and  bones."  The  hat  is  tied  behind  on  the  back ; 
they  carry  in  their  hands  a  little  tin  money-box,  which  they 
hold  out  to  every  one  they  meet.  One  of  them  accosted  Mr- 
D.  to-day,  but  he  told  John  to  ask  him  to  take  that  thing  off 
his  hce,  that  he  might  see  who  he  was,  but  John  drew  back, 
declaring  that  he  dared  not,  as  no  one  knew  who  these  beg- 
gars were.  Some  say  they  are  priests  or  cardinals  in  dis- 
guise, and  that  they  go  thus  as  a  sort  of  penance ;  but  if  they 
are  not  known,  where  is  the  mortification  and  self-denial  ? 
Others  suppose  them  to  be  spies  of  the  Inquisition,  and  that 
they  go  about  thus  concealed,  to  trap  the  unwary. 

We  have  spent  a  part  of  the  day  in  visiting  the  ancient 
Capitol,  where  have  occurred  some  of  the  most  stirring 
events  recorded  in  Roman  history.  Here,  as  every  where 
else  in  Rome,  are  paintings  and  sculpture,  but  as  I  have 
already  written  so  much  on  these  subjects,  I  will  now  pass 
them  over  in  silence.  From  the  tower  of  the  Capitol,  we 
had  the  finest  view  of  the  city  we  have  yet  obtained,  not  even 
excepting  that  from  St.  Peter's,  because  it  is  in  the  centre  of 
the  city,  and  therefore  all  the  houses,  ruined  palaces  and 
temples  lay  in  a  mass  at  our  feet.  Here  was  the  ancient 
Forum,  surrounded  with  the  ruins  of  the  temples  of  Concord, 
Fortune,  and  Jupiter  Serapis  ;  farther  on,  the  arches  of  Ti- 
tus and  Constantine,  and  near  them  the  magnificent  Colos- 
seum, while  all  around  were  scattered  fragments  of  former 
splendor.  Below  us  was  the  far-famed  Tarpeian  Rock,  down 
which  condemned  prisoners  were  formerly  thrown,  but  so 
much  has  the  earth  been  filled  up  of  late  years,  that  there  is 
now  nothing  frightful  about  it. 

A  part  of  the  Capitol  is  still  used  as  a  Senate  Chamber. 
Before  the  doors,  the  senators'  carriages  were  drawn  up,  with 


136  LETTERS. 

the  servants  in  attendance,  having  on  their  gorgeous  livery,  a 
long  red  cloak  over  a  coat  and  short  breeches  of  the  same. 
From  one  of  them  John  learned  that  the  Pope  was  to  attend 
vespers  at  St.  Peter's.  Mr.  T.  was  at  home  waiting  for  John 
to  go  out  with  him  to  do  some  shopping;  but  J.  and  I  thought, 
instead  of  going  with  them,  that  we  would  go  to  St.  Peter's, 
so  we  hurried  off. 

After  waiting  there  a  long  time,  I  inquired  of  several  if  the 
Pope  was  not  coming,  but  no  one  understood  me.  At  last  I 
accosted  one  of  the  servants  of  a  senator,  and  by  summoning 
to  my  aid  all  the  Italian  words  I  could  think  of,  I  succeeded 
in  finding  out  that  he  was  officiating  in  one  of  the  chapels  in 
the  Vatican.  I  asked  if  ladies  were  admitted.  He  pointed 
to  my  bonnet;  alas!  I  had  left  my  veil  at  home,  and  so  was 
excluded.  At  first  I  felt  a  little  disappointed,  but  after  wan- 
dering through  the  magnificent  aisles  and  numerous  chapels 
of  this  immense  church,  I  thought  the  time  was  better  spent 
than  in  listening  to  the  unintelligible  service,  and  in  witness- 
ing the  pomp  and  parade  of  the  papal  religion. 

And  now  we  have  gone  the  rounds  of  sight-seeing  in  Rome. 
Many  weeks  might  be  here  profitably  spent,  but  the  weather 
is  so  sultry  that  we  have  been  obliged  to  quicken  our  move- 
ments. Still  I  believe  we  have  neglected  nothing  of  conse- 
quence. Many  churches  and  palaces  and  ruins  we  have  vis- 
ited that  I  have  not  mentioned,  for  fear  of  making  my  letters 
altogether  too  long.  There  are  few  places  in  the  world  of 
more  general  interest  to  strangers  than  Rome.  To  the  his- 
torical and  classical  reader  it  is  full  of  thrilling  associations; 
to  the  lover  of  the  fine  arts  it  presents  constant  food.  No  one 
can  visit  this  city,  without  being  struck  with  the  idea  of  how 
vast  must  have  been  her  wealth  and  resources,  when  in  her 
early  days  she  erected  so  many  magnificent  buildings.  When- 
ever I  walk  among  these  ruins,  and  see  the  scale  on  which 
they  were  built,  and  how  they  abounded  with  pillars  and 
statues,  I  can  but  wonder  whence  came  the  millions  of  dol- 
lars they  must  have  cost.     And  yet  in  those  times  of  wars 


LETTERS.  137 

and  oppressions,  doubtless  much  of  it  came  from  tributes 
paid  by  conquered  provinces.  And  yet  this  splendor  and 
wealth,  after  all,  served  but  to  enervate  the  minds  of  the 
people  of  Rome,  till  she  fell  from  her  proud  eminence  as  mis- 
tress of  the  world,  and  became  what  she  now  is,  the  seat  of 
desolation  and  ruin.  And  oh  !  if  now  she  is  magnificent  in 
her  fall,  what  must  she  have  been  in  the  full  blaze  of  her 
meridian  glory,  when  in  all  her  pride  and  pomp  she  sat,  as 
mistress  of  the  world,  enthroned  upon  her  seven  hills  ? 

In  our  ride  this  evening  we  were  much  amused  with  an 
examination  a  load  of  hay  was  undergoing  in  passing  through 
one  of  the  gates  of  the  city.  An  officer  had  a  sharp  pointed 
rod  in  his  hand,  which  he  was  thrusting  through  the  hay  in 
all  directions,  to  see,  or  rather  to  feel,  if  any  contraband 
goods  were  concealed  in  it.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the 
stories  I  had  heard  of  persons  hiding  themselves  in  a  load  of 
hay,  and  so  getting  in  or  out  of  a  city,  but  it  could  not  have 
been  when  custom-house  officers  were  as  sharp  as  they  are 
here,  for  in  this  instance  a  man  thus  concealed  would  run 
"  a  pretty  smart  chance  "  of  having  his  ribs  punched. 

Every  man  who  brings  provisions  into  the  city,  has  to 
undergo  a  strict  examination;  even  our  washerwoman,  who 
lives  without  the  walls,  can  never  bring  home  our  clothes  till 
at  the  gate  they  have  been  examined.  Is  it  not  a  queer  coun- 
try to  live  in? 

We  start  for  Florence  on  Monday.  We  have  had  many 
discussions  as  to  the  way  of  going.  There  is  no  Diligence, 
and  you  must  go  either  by  post,  or  by  vetturino.  By  post, 
you  are  hurried  through  the  country,  travelling  night  and 
day,  and  with  but  little  time  given  you  for  stopping,  and  the 
charges  are  enormous.  By  vetturino,  you  hire  a  carriage, 
two  horses  and  a  driver,  and  for  such  a  sum  he  agrees  to  take 
you  the  specified  distance,  to  be  so  many  days  in  going,  to 
stop  two  or  three  hours  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  and  during 
all  the  night,  and  to  give  you,  without  extra  charges,  your 
dinner  and  lodging,  his  own  board  and  the  food  for  his  horses 
12* 


13S  LETTERS. 

included.  All  other  expenses  you  must  defray  yourself.  It 
is  by  far  the  best  way  of  seeing  the  country ;  it  is  much 
the  cheapest ;  there  is  but  one  drawback  —  you  are  so  long 
going,  that  a  good  deal  of.  time  is  consumed,  and  you  run  the 
risk  of  meeting  with  some  poor  inns.  However,  after  long 
deliberation,  we  have  decided  to  go  by  vetturino.  We  have 
therefore  engaged  a  good  strong  carriage  that  will  seat  four, 
two  stout  horses,  and  a  man  named  Francesco,  who  will  act  as 
an  interpreter  for  us  from  place  to  place,  as  he  speaks  French 
fluently.  He  agrees  to  take  us  to  Florence  in  five  days,  the 
distance  being  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  I  must 
say  the  idea  of  being  so  long  on  the  road  this  hot  weather,  is 
any  thing  but  pleasant  to  me.  Perhaps  the  journey  will  turn 
out  better  than  I  anticipate. 

Sunday  evening'. 

We  again  attended  church  this  morning,  where  we  united 
in  the  service  we  love,  and  where  the  holy  communion  was 
administered. 

We  paid  our  farewell  visit  to  St.  Peter's  this  evening.  I 
took  a  melancholy  interest  in  looking  for  the  last  time  on  the 
masterpieces  of  art  that  I  have  seen  almost  every  day  since 
I  have  been  in  Rome.  I  could  spend  days  in  wandering 
through  the  "long  aisles"  and  "proudly  arched  chapels"  of 
this  gorgeous  edifice.  I  looked  again  and  again  upon  the 
noble  monuments  that  had  so  oft  attracted  my  attention,  and 
when  forced  at  last  by  the  deepening  shades  of  evening  to 
depart,  I  turned  sorrowfully  away,  and  sighed  that  I  never 
more  should  gaze  on  grand  St.  Peter's. 

This  is  the  first  moonlight  evening  we  have  had  since  we 
have  been  in  Rome,  and  we  took  advantage  of  it  to  go  and 
see  the  Colosseum  by  moonlight.  There  is  something  so 
saddening  in  the  nature  of  ruins,  that  they  must  always 
appear  under  a  better  aspect  by  moonlight,  than  under  the 
full  beams  of  the  sun,  for  does  not  the  "  Poet  of  the  North  " 
say,  that  the  sunlight  "  gilds  but  to  flout  the  ruins  grey?  " 


LETTERS.  Igg 

We  walked  among  the  monuments  of  past  glory,  now  jest- 
ing beneath  some  broken  arch,  now  climbing  some  half 
ruined  staircase,  and  admiring  the  effect  of  the  light  as  it  fell 
in  softened  shadows  through  the  trees  which  grew  amono- the 
scattered  pillars.  "  The  stars  shone  through  the  rents  of 
ruin,"  and  the  mild,  pale  light  of  the  young  moon  fell  so 
softly,  so  purely,  now  lighting  up  an  arched  passage,  now 
falling  on  a  shattered  column,  that  we  were  tempted  to  stay 
much  longer  than  in  prudence  we  ought,  as  we  found,  when 
wearied  and  chilled,  we  returned  to  our  rooms.  And  now 
must  I  say  farewell  to  Rome?  It  is  a  sad  word,  but  how 
often  has  it  to  be  spoken  in  this  chequered  life  of  ours!  We 
meet  but  to  part,  we  love  but  to  lose,  and  thus  we  go  on 
till  we  pass  the  bounds  of  this  life,  and  enter  upon  that 
"  where  partings  shall  be  no  more." 


Florence,  Saturday. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Thus  you  see  our  long  journey  has  been  accomplished,  and 
we  have  safely  arrived  at  its  termination,  and  you  will  doubt- 
less be  happy  to  know,  that  I  did  not  find  it  tedious  nor  dis- 
agreeable at  all.  On  the  contrary,  1  am  satisfied  that  this 
way  of  travelling,  though  rather  slow,  is,  after  all,  the  best,  if 
one  wishes  to  see  the  country.  By  stopping  to  rest  a  few 
hours  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  having  each  night  for  re- 
pose, we  avoided  fatigue,  and  felt  active  and  bright  all  the 
time.  How  much  better  is  this,  than  riding  day  and  night 
in  the  Diligence,  or  dashing  through  the  country  by  post. 
The  weather  has  been  delightful,  and  the  road  excellent. 
During  the  first  day's  ride,  the  country  was  not  very  pleas- 
ant; there  was  wild,  rugged  beauty,  but  the  land  was  uncul- 
tivated, but  after  that,  it  assumed  a  new  aspect.  Finely 
cultivated  fields  appeared  on  either  side  of  the  road ;  the  vine 


140  LETTERS. 

stretjshed  from  tree  to  tree.  Deep,  dark  ravines  and  mountain 
passes  often  added  new  and  stern  beauty  to  the  scene.  One 
afternoon  we  stopped  at  Terni,  where  we  took  a  carriage  and 
visited  the  falls,  about  five  miles  distant.  In  addition  to  our 
own  party,  we  had  the  pleasure  of  the  company  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Brown,  whom  we  met  on  the  road  to  Florence,  a  day's 
journey  from  Rome.  Mr.  B.  is  an  American  artist  of  much 
promise  ;  he  spent  the  last  winter  in  Rome,  and  expects  to 
pass  the  present  season  in  this  city,  where  he  has  orders  to 
copy  some  paintings  for  an  American  gentleman. 

The  ride  to  the  Falls  of  Terni  was  through  a  most  pic- 
turesque country,  abounding  in  mountains,  some  rocky  and 
rugged,  others  covered  with  trees  and  shrubs.  Arriving  at 
the  spot  where  carriages  must  be  abandoned,  we  had  a  ro- 
mantic walk  through  wild  passes,  up  and  down  steep  paths, 
till  we  were  in  sight  of  the  falls,  which  came  tumbling  down 
over  the  rocks,  a  distance  of  nearly  four  hundred  feet.  We 
took  several  different  views,  and  found  them  all  grand.  The 
mountains  encircling  us  around,  added  tothegrandeur  of  the 
scene ;  on  their  tops  rested  deep  dark  clouds,  sometimes 
varied  with  those  of  a  brighter,  softer,  more  beautiful  hue. 
We  wandered  round,  listening  to  the  roaring  of  the  water,  as 
it  danced  and  leaped  along,  wishing  only  that  we  had  more 
time  to  bestow  on  so  enchanting  a  spot.  The  only  drawback 
to  our  felicity  was,  that  we  were  followed  by  a  troop  of  men, 
boys,  women  and  girls,  some  wanting  one  thing,  some  an- 
other; some  to  sell  coral  and  pieces  of  petrified  wood,  others 
leading  donkeys,  which  they  urged  us  to  ride,  and  all  equally 
troublesome.  At  one  time  I  stopped  and  counted  sixteen 
difierent  ones  in  our  wake. 

On  Thursday  we  crossed  a  part  of  the  range  of  the  Apen- 
nines, where  we  were  obliged  to  have  a  yoke  of  oxen  ahead 
of  our  horses  to  assist  us  in  the  ascent.  We  stopped  that 
noon  at  Perugia,  a  small  city  seated  on  the  very  top  of  a 
high  mountain,  and  surrounded  by  a  strong  wall.  We  vis- 
ited the   cathedral,  a  handsome  edifice,  with  an  arched  ceil- 


LETTERS.  141 

ing  painted  in  fresco,  and  supported  by  large  stone  pillars, 
stuccoed  to  resemble  marble. 

There  was  a  fine  window  of  painted  glass,  representino- 
the  deposition  from  the  cross,  and  a  beautiful  painting  on 
the  same  subject.  We  also  saw  in  the  house  of  the  mayor, 
a  picture  by  Raphael,  said  to  have  been  done  when  he  was 
only  eighteen,  which  Mr.  B.  thought  could  not  be  true,  as  it 
was  much  superior  to  any  of  his  works  done  at  that  early 
age. 

We  visited  the  old  Augustan  gate,  built  in  the  time  of 
Augustus,  of  solid  pieces  of  stone,  put  together  without  any 
cement.  It  seems  even  now,  strong  and  well  preserved,  and 
bids  fair  to  defy  time  for  years  to  come. 

From  Perugia  to  Passignano,  the  ride  was  delightful, 
through  a  picturesque  country  abounding  in  hill  and  dale. 
We  were  obliged  to  employ  oxen  twice,  so  long  and  steep 
were  some  of  the  hills.  We  passed  at  a  distance  several 
villages  seated  on  the  airy  heights  of  the  mountains  and 
surrounded  by  solid  walls.  The  country  was  exceedingly 
well  cultivated.  Here  we  saw  the  olive  tree.  It  has  a  light 
green  leaf  and  small  yellow  blossoms.  The  oil  serves  for 
cooking,  for  eating  and  for  burning.  It  is  said  to  be  nicer 
here  than  any  where  else  in  Italy,  but  as  I  never  eat  it,  I 
cannot  testify  to  its  goodness. 

All  along  in  that  neighborhood  we  met  women  and  girls, 
riding  their  donkeys  "  a  la  mode"  man,  or  speaking  right 
out  in  plain  English,  "  man  fashion."  It  looked  rather 
queer  to  see  their  brown  legs,  often  bare  to  the  knees ;  how- 
ever, it  is  the  fashion,  and  they  did  not  seem  to  mind  it. 

Passignano  is  a  dirty  little  village,  but  charmingly  situated 
on  the  lake  of  Perugia,  which  is  fairly  embosomed  among 
mountains.  For  four  or  five  miles  our  road  was  along  the 
bank  of  the  lake,  now  in  full  view,  now  just  hidden  by  the 
overarching  trees.  I  was  determined  to  have  a  room  from 
which  I  could  see  the  lake,  and  we  had  to  fight  hard  for  it, 
not  with  weapons  of  warfare,   but  with  those  with  which 


142 


LETTERS. 


woman  is  more  conversant,  the  tongue,  and  as  usual  I  gain- 
ed my  point.  It  was  a  miserable  little  inn,  and  I  thought  it 
was  too  bad  amid  all  the  discomforts,  to  be  shut  out  of  the 
sight  of  that  enchanting  little  lake.  While  waiting  for  din- 
ner, I  sat  down  by  the  window  and  looked  forth  upon  the 
water,  over  which  the  setting  sun  shed  a  soft  light,  and  the 
clouds  assumed  beautiful  tints  of  red  and  blue.  Twilight 
came,  and  still  I  sat  and  looked,  when  suddenly  o'er  a  dis- 
tant mountain  top  the  moon  came  up,  and  soon  lake  and 
mountains  and  valleys  were  smiling  in  its  soft  light.  After 
dinner,  while  writing,  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 
often  rising  and  going  to  the  window  to  gaze  upon  the  fairy- 
like scene. 

How  striking  are  the  contrasts  we  meet  in  life.  Amid 
this  charming  country,  this  country  so  well  cultivated,  and 
where  plenty  seems  to  abound,  we  meet  beggars  on  every 
side.  I  wonder  if  they  are  so  poor,  or  if  they  thus  assume 
the  appearance  of  poverty  to  attract  pity  and  attention.  One 
day  Mr.  T.  bought  five  loaves  of  bread,  for  about  five  cents 
of  our  money,  which  he  gave  away,  and  it  was  astonishing 
to  see  how  greedily  the  people  received  it,  though  being  so 
cheap  it  would  seem  within  the  reach  of  every  one. 

Last  night  we  stopped  at  Monte  Varchi,  a  small  village, 
where  we  had  a  moderately  good  dinner  and  a  good  bed,  but 
the  charges  were  exorbitant.  However,  as  this  concerned 
Francesco  and  not  us,  we  stood  calmly  by,  while  he.  Italian- 
like, stormed  away  quite  furiously.  But  when  it  came  our 
turn  to  settle  for  our  breakfast,  and  I  found  they  charged  me 
three  pauls  (thirty  cents)  for  one  egg  and  a  small  piece  of 
bread,  then  I  began,  and  in  a  mixture  of  French  and  Italian 
and  gestures  more  easily  understood  than  my  language  per- 
haps, assented  to  the  truth  of  what  Francesco  had  been  say- 
ing. However,  in  this  instance  the  innkeeper  was  not  to  be 
moved  by  scolding  and  threats,  and  so  in  contemptuous  in- 
dignation we  took  our  seats  in  the  carriage. 

And  here  let  me  give  you  a  little  instance  of  Francesco's 


LETTERS.  143 

natural  politeness.  Every  morning  when  I  enter  the  car- 
riage I  see  hanging  over  my  seat  a  little  bunch  of  flowers, 
and  when  I  point  to  them  and  thank  him  for  them  he  smiles 
and  says,  "  Oh,  it  is  nothing  for  me,  but  Madame  loves 
them."  Sometimes  they  are  accompanied  by  little  gifts  of 
fruit  and  nuts,  particularly  apricots,  and  that  kind  of  walnut 
we  call  "  the  English  walnut,"  which  grows  here  in  abun- 
dance. When  I  meet  with  any  difficulty  in  cracking  them, 
I  hand  them  out  of  the  window  to  Francesco,  and  he  laughs 
and  takes  them  in  a  certain  manner  in  his  hands  and  then 
by  clasping  them  together  suddenly  cracks  them  with  perfect 
ease. 

Since  we  entered  Tuscany  we  have  noticed  a  very  per- 
ceptible difference  in  the  aspect  of  affairs.  The  country 
was  more  cultivated,  the  houses  better  looking,  and  there 
Vv^ere  not  quite  so  many  beggars  in  the  road  as  had  lately 
beset  us.  It  was  only  now  and  then,  that  the  beautiful  face 
of  the  country  was  varied  by  a  sterile  looking  mountain,  or 
an  unfruitful  field. 

We  were  stopped  awhile  at  the  gates  of  the  city,  where 
our  passports  were  examined,  and  I  suppose  our  baggage 
would  have  been,  and  vigorously  too,  if  Francesco  had  not 
slipped  a  few  pauls  into  the  hands  of  the  officer,  who  bowed 
and  said,  "pass  on."      \ 

Our  ride  through  the  streets  to  the  Hotel  d'York  was 
very  pleasant.  We  passed  through  fine  streets,  by  handsome 
houses,  and  by  more  beautiful  shops,  than  we  have  seen 
since  we  left  Paris. 

It  was  only  one  o'clock  when  we  arrived  at  the  hotel,  and 
then  we  had  the  labor  to  go  through  with  of  selecting  our 
rooms,  and  making  arrangements  for  our  meals.  I  say, 
"  labor,"  for  you  have  to  bargain  for  every  separate  thing 
you  will  need.  The  waiters  here  speak  French,  so  I  acted 
as  interpreter.  First  we  had  to  select  our  rooms  ;  these  we 
must  see  to  know  which  to  choose  and  what  was  to  be  the 
price.     In  addition  to  our  sleeping  rooms  we  were  obliged 


^/ 


144  LETTERS. 

to  engage  a  room  in  which  we  are  to  take  our  breakfast, 
there  being  no  ordinary,  or  as  it  is  called  here  "  table 
d'hote,"  for  breakfast.  About  the  breakfast  itself,  there  was 
a  distinct  bargaining,  there  being  two  kinds  of  breakfasts. 
One  is  simply  called  breakfast,  at  which  you  are  allowed  tea, 
bread  and  boiled  eggs ;  the  price  of  this  is  one  franc  and  a 
half,  (about  twenty-five  cents,)  the  other  is  called  "  dejeu- 
ner a  la  fourchette,"  literally  meaning,  a  breakfast  where 
one  has  to  use  a  fork.  Here  you  are  allowed  meats,  and 
even  fruits  ;  for  this  you  are  charged  about  three  francs.  So 
you  must  decide  what  kind  of  breakfast  you  will  have,  and 
you  are  charged  accordingly.  Dinner  is  four  francs  a-piece, 
whether  we  take  it  in  our  own  rooms  or  at  the  public  table. 
These  preliminaries  over,  we  engaged  our  "  valet  de  place," 
and  I  think  John  must  be  quite  as  common  a  name  in  Italy 
as  in  our  own  country,  for  our  man  here  answers  to  that 
name,  as  well  as  the  one  we  had  in  Rome. 

Then  having  two  or  three  hours  at  our  command,  we 
walked  out  to  see  the  lions.  Of  course,  as  in  every  city,  you 
are  first  taken  to  the  Cathedral.  This  is  a  splendid,  ancient 
looking  church,  built  of  alternate  slabs  of  black,  white  and 
green  marble,  which  are  now  however  quite  discolored  by 
time.  As  I  entertained  you  with  so  many  accounts  of 
churches  in  Rome,  I  will  pass  this  one  by  in  silence.  Back 
of  the  church  is  the  Baptistery,  a  circular  building  of  the 
same  materials  as  the  Cathedral.  The  doors  are  of  bronze, 
and  are  so  beautifully  sculptured  in  bas-reliefs,  as  to  draw 
from  Michael  Angelo  the  exclamation,  that  they  were  wor- 
thy of  being  the  gates  of  heaven.  Within  the  Baptistery, 
service  was  being  performed,  in  the  midst  of  which  a  priest 
baptized  an  infant.  He  first  laid  his  hand  upon  its  head, 
after  which  he  put  upon  it  the  end  of  his  scarf,  on  which 
was  embroidered  a  cross.  It  was  then  carried  to  the  font, 
on  the  edge  of  which  it  was  held,  while  a  basin  of  water  was 
poured  over  its  head.  This  the  poor  little  thing  bore  with 
all  the  patience  in  the  world.     It  did  not  look  more  than 


LETTERS.  145 

three  weeks  old,  and  seemed,  I  thought,  too  stupid  to  notice 
any  thing. 

By  the  side  of  the  Baptistery  is  the  tower,  also  built  of 
alternate  slabs  of  marble.  It  is  said  to  be  the  most  splendid 
tower  in  Italy,  and  is  two  hundred  and  eighty  feet  high.  In 
this  are  the  bells  of  the  Cathedral.  They  were  all  rung 
together  this  evening  and  "  discoursed  sweet  music."  In- 
deed all  the  bells  in  Italy  have  very  rich,  mellow  tones. 

The  streets  of  Florence  are  quite  wide,  and  very  clean. 
Many  of  the  houses  are  built  of  square  slabs  of  dark  colored 
stone,  which  give  them  a  massy  appearance.  The  houses 
are  not  numbered  by  streets  as  with  us,  but  the  numbers  o-q 
on  from  one  street  to  another.  The  river  Arno  flows  through 
the  city,  and  is  spanned  by  several  handsome  bridges.  Thus 
far  we  are  much  pleased  with  this  city. 

But  it  is  getting  late,  and  I  must  close.     As  ever,  yours. 


Florence,  Tuesday. 
My  dear  p.  : 

I  felt  so  much  fatigued  after  our  long  journey,  that  I  did  not 
go  out  on  Sunday,  although  there  was  service  in  the  house  of 
the  British  ambassador,  but  it  was  some  distance  from  our 
hotel.  Yesterday  and  to-day  we  have  spent  in  visiting  pal- 
aces and  churches,  where  we  have  seen  many  of  the  finest 
productions  of  the  painter  and  the  sculptor.  We  first  visited 
the  Royal  Gallery,  where  is  a  superb  collection  of  statuary 
and  paintings,  but  as  I  said  so  much  on  these  subjects  while 
in  Rome,  I  will  here  pass  lightly  over  them.  Three  long  cor- 
ridors were  filled  with  sculpture,  and  I  cannot  tell  how  many 
rooms  with  pictures.  Separate  rooms  were  devoted  to  the 
different  schools  of  paintings,  the  Tuscan,  Italian,  Neapoli- 
tan, Venitian,  French,  Flemish,  Dutch,  &:-c.,  and  among 
these  were  some  of  the  most  perfect  works  of  art. 
13 


146  LETTERS. 

In  one  room  is  the  celebrated  Venus  de  Medicis,  of  which 
I  have  heard  almost  ever  since  I  heard  any  thing.  At  first  I 
was  disappointed  in  it,  and  could  not  but  hope  that  I  had 
mistaken  the  guide,  and  that  this  was  not  the  Venus.  Not 
but  what  it  is  very  beautiful,  and  a  perfect  model  of  female 
grace  and  loveliness,  but  I  have  seen  so  many  fine  statues 
lately,  that  I  have  become  quite  an  epicure  in  my  taste. 
However,  it  grew  upon  my  regards,  and  after  I  had  looked 
upon  it  some  time,  I  thought  it  indeed  lovely.  I  could  but 
wish  that  some  of  our  belles  could  take  a  look  at  this  statue, 
and  contrast  their  own  distorted  and  disfigured  forms  with 
the  full  expanded  chest,  the  large,  round  waist  of  this  beauti- 
ful figure. 

We  went  into  another  room,  called  the  "  Cabinet  of 
Gems,"  and  "gems"  indeed  they  were,  consisting  of  vessels 
of  jasper,  agate,  onyx,  chalcedony,  amethyst,  cornelian,  lapis- 
lazuli,  pearl,  &.C.,  jewels  of  gold  and  silver,  and  rings  set 
with  the  rarest  stones.  There  was  a  beautiful  table  of  mo- 
saic, representing  the  port  of  Leghorn.  This  mosaic  is  dif- 
ferent from  any  other  kind  I  have  yet  seen,  being  composed 
of  precious  stones  and  valuable  marbles.  On  this  table  the 
sea  was  of  lapis-lazuli,  and  the  brilliant  blue  of  this  stone 
well  represents  the  deep  color  of  the  Mediterranean. 

Afterwards  we  visited  the  Acaderny  of  Fine  Arts,  where 
we  saw  the  whole  process  of  making  these  mosaics,  from 
cutting  the  stones  to  the  size  needed,  to  polishing  the  work 
when  finished.  Around  the  room,  in  glass  cases,  were  ar- 
ranged stones  the  most  rare  and  precious,  and  gathered  from 
all  countries ;  marbles,  porphyry,  granite,  serpentine,  verd- 
antique,  (species  of  green  marble)  alabaster,  amethyst,  (some 
brought  from  Hindostan)  agate,  and  I  cannot  tell  what  else, 
shone  in  rich  profusion.  Here  were  the  most  splendid  tables 
I  ever  saw.  Almost  all  were  for  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tusca- 
ny ;  two  or  three  were  for  churches.  The  top  of  one  small 
round  table  occupied  seven  persons  four  years,  and  cost  two 
thousand  pounds.     The  grapes  in  the  centre  were  of  ame- 


LETTERS.  147 

thyst,  and  the  flowers  of  chalcedony.  Another  table,  about 
five  feet  long,  occupied  ten  persons  six  years,  and  cost  thirty- 
five  hundred  pounds.  The  ground-work  of  this  was  of  por- 
phyry, the  flowers  of  petrified  wood,  lapis-lazuli,  jasper  and 
agate. 

We  saw  also,  the  monument  which,  though  finished,  has 
not  yet  been  erected,  that  the  Grand  Duke  has  had  made  for 
his  wife,  who  has  been  dead  several  years.  I  can  imagine 
nothing  richer.  The  sarcophagus  in  which  the  body  is  to  be 
placed  is  of  the  most  beautiful  Egyptian  granite,  on  the  front 
of  which  are  wrought  in  mosaic  the  arms  of  Tuscany  and  of 
Saxony  ;  (she  was  of  the  house  of  Saxony.)  Then  comes  a 
magnificent  basin  of  porphyry,  on  the  cover  of  which  is  the 
crown,  made  of  rare  marbles.  It  certainly  is  a  splendid 
thing;  indeed  it  ought  to  be,  for  it  has  already  cost  the 
Grand  Duke  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Forty  men  were  em- 
ployed on  it,  working  day  and  night  for  five  years,  and 
although  it  has  been  finished  four  years,  it  has  been  here  all 
this  time,  because,  forsooth,  the  Grand  Duke  cannot  decide 
where  to  have  it  put. 

I  told  the  overseer  who  showed  us  round  the  establishment, 
and  who  seemed  like  a  very  intelligent  man,  that  I  should 
like  to  be  Grand  Duke  until  I  got  all  thes3  fine  things  in  my 
possession,  and  then  I  would  willingly  resign  the  office.  He 
spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of  the  government  of  the  Grand 
Duke,  and  said  he  governed  his  people  like  a  father,  and  not 
as  a  tyrant.  He  told  me  the  workmen  in  this  establishment 
get  from  thirty  cents  a  day  to  a  dollar,  according  to  the  part 
of  the  work  they  have  to  do;  and  if  they  or  their  families  are 
sick,  they  have  medical  attendance  without  expense  to  them. 
When  one  dies,  a  pension  is  settled  upon  the  widow. 

In  other  rooms  we  saw  beautiful  paintings,  originals  of 
those  in  the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo.  One  of  the  finest  of 
these  is  Hagar,  sent  forth  by  Abraham.  The  sad,  mournful 
look  in  the  sweet  face  of  Hagar,  the  childish  grief  in  that  of 
Ishmael,  the  stern  countenance  of  the  Patriarch,  the  unyield- 


148  LETTERS. 

ing  face  of  Sarah,  the  innocent,  pleading  expression  of  the 
young  Isaac,  are  inimitable.  A  picture  of  fearful  sublimity 
is  Christ,  sitting  in  His  glory,  to  judge  the  world.  Below 
him  stand  the  angels,  driving  the  condemned  ones  to  the 
place  of  torment,  whose  bodies,  as  they  descend,  seem  to 
reflect  the  lurid  flames  below,  which  are  visible  only  by  this 
reflection.  Then  there  is  a  painting  of  the  Crucifixion.  At 
the  foot  of  the  cross  are  two  or  three  women,  whose  faces 
express  the  deepest  grief  One  clings  closely  to  the  cross, 
as  though  she  could  not  let  her  Redeemer  go ;  the  others 
stand  with  looks  upturned,  weeping  for  their  Lord  and 
Master. 

After  dinner,  yesterday,  we  rode  out  to  the  Cascine,  the 
Grand  Duke's  park.  The  most  of  the  way  the  road  was 
bordered  with  trees,  with  rich  meadows  on  either  side,  then 
it  passed  through  thick  woods,  the  shade  of  which  was  really 
refreshing.  This  park  is  three  miles  in  extent,  and  is  beau- 
tifully laid  out  with  winding  walks  and  rides.  It  is  at  all 
times  thrown  open  to  the  public,  and  here  at  the  usual  hour 
for  riding,  you  will  meet  a  great  number  of  carriages  filled 
with  the  fashionables  of  the  city.  At  one  particular  place, 
many  leave  their  carriages  and  walk.  Here  I  have  seen  the 
handsomest  women  I  have  met  in  Europe,  for  I  must  say  the 
ladies  in  France  and  Italy  are  the  homeliest  I  ever  saw;  but 
I  suspect  the  most  of  those  we  saw  in  the  Cascine  were  Eng- 
lish. 

We  spent  all  this  morning  at  the  Pitti  Palace,  which  belongs 
to  the  Grand  Duke.  It  is  an  immense  edifice,  built  in  the 
usual  Florentine  style,  that  is,  of  large  blocks  of  stone.  In  this 
palace  is  the  choicest  collection  of  paintings  in  the  world  ;  at 
least  so  say  some  connoisseurs.  There  are  several  Madonnas 
by  Raphael,  how  beautiful  I  need  not  say,  since  it  is  enough 
that  they  are  by  him.  One  of  these  is  such  a  favorite  of  the 
Grand  Duke's,  that  he  takes  it  with  him  in  his  carriage, 
whenever  he  goes  any  distance  from  Florence.  There  were 
masterpieces  by  Rubens,  Domenichino,  Caravaggio,  Coreg- 


LETTERS.  149 

gio,  Carlo  Dolci,  Titian,  Tintoretto,  and  a  host  of  others.  I 
do  not  know  when  I  ever  enjoyed  any  thing  so  much  as  the 
visit  to  this  palace. 

We  saw  only  the  rooms  open  to  the  public,  so  took  more 
notice  of  the  paintings  than  the  furniture.  In  fact,  furniture 
is  a  secondary  consideration,  and  I  should  not  mention  it, 
only  that  you  may  have  some  idea  how  the  rooms  look.  In 
the  Pitti  Palace,  the  frames  of  the  chairs  and  sofas  were  all 
gilded.  In  many  of  the  rooms  were  splendid  mosaic  tables 
and  vases  of  Sevres  porcelain  of  beautiful  workmanship. 

The  bathing-room  of  the  Grand  Duchess  is  a  nice  little 
room.  The  bathing-tub  is  of  white  marble,  and  around  the 
room  are  several  beautiful  statues. 

In  the  rooms  devoted  to  natural  history,  are  beautiful 
specimens  of  birds  and  fishes,  insects  and  reptiles.  In  other 
rooms  are  represented  in  wax  all  the  bones  of  the  human 
frame,  from  a  perfect  skeleton  down  to  the  most  minute 
bone.  This  is  the  most  perfect  collection  in  the  world,  and 
forms  a  complete  school  of  anatomy.  Parts  of  this  collection 
have  been  copied  and  sent  into  France,  England  and  Amer- 
ica. 

Here,  too,  is  represented  in  wax,  the  progress  of  the  plague, 
at  the  time  it  raged  here.  There  were  different  figures,  rep- 
resenting different  stages  of  the  disease,  even  to  the  putrified 
dead  bodies  in  the  streets.  It  made  me  shudder  to  see  them, 
and  yet  I  mustered  nerve  enough  to  look  steadily  at  them, 
because  though  fearful  sights,  I  thought  I  might  not  have 
another  opportunity  to  see  any  thing  like  them. 

We  then  visited  the  garden  of  the  Grand  Duke,  which  is 
finely  laid  out  with  noble  trees  and  broad  walks.  Many  of 
the  trees  are  kept  closely  trimmed  so  as  to  form  hedges.  I 
saw  but  few  flowers,  but  many  orange  and  lemon  trees.  The 
great  basin  of  granite  we  met  on  our  way  to  Pisa,  is  in  this 
garden,  but  not  yet  fixed  in  its  proper  place. 

In   an  artificial   lake   in  this    garden   a  man   was   found 
drowned  last   Friday  morning,  being   the   sixth  person  who 
13* 


150  LETTERS. 

has  drowned  himself  in  this  place.  The  guards  stationed  at 
the  gates  are  very  particular,  and  will  allow  none  to  go  in 
without  permission,  as  we  found  to  our  sorrow,  for  we  had 
tickets  for  four  persons,  whereas  with  John  we  Mere  five  in 
number ;  so  we  had  to  wait  and  send  back  to  the  office  and 
get  another  ticket.  The  sun  was  very  hot,  but  the  crusty 
fellow  would  not  permit  us  even  to  rest  under  the  shade  of  a 
tree  within  the  gate,  but  made  us  stand  without  under  the 
noontide  beams  of  the  sun.  When  we  came  out,  Mr.  D.  told 
John  to  tell  that  man  if  he  ever  came  to  America,  he  would 
be  happy  to  see  him  at  his  house. 

After  dinner,  as  we  were  crossing  one  of  the  bridges,  we 
saw  the  Grand  Duke's  carriage  coming  along,  drawn  by  six 
horses,  with  three  or  four  outriders.  We  requested  our  coach- 
man to  stop,  that  we  might  have  a  good  view  of  his  highness. 
Mr.  D.  got  his  hat  off  in  readiness  for  a  polite  bow,  I  stood 
up  in  the  carriage  with  my  glass  to  my  eye,  while  J.  sat  very 
composedly  on  his  seat.  The  carriage  swept  by.  Mr.  D. 
flourished  away  with  his  bows,  when  "  lo  and  behold,"  there 
was  no  one  in  the  carriage  but  the  infant  and  his  attendants  ! 
Mr.  D.  quickly  put  on  his  hat,  while  I  slipped  quietly  down 
on  my  seat.  How  we  did  laugh  !  I  feared  J.  never  would 
stop.  The  idea  of  our  making  all  that  fuss  for  an  infant  and 
its  nurse  was  perfectly  ridiculous.  However,  there  was  some 
consolation,  for  I  noticed  that  all  in  the  streets  took  off  their 
hats,  and  made  obeisance  to  the  baby.  And  after  all,  it  was 
not  so  very  bad,  for  as  soon  as  I  could  cease  laughing  long 
enough  to  make  inquiries  of  John,  I  found  out  that  the  lady 
in  the  carriage  was  sister  to  the  Grand  Duke. 

As  we  entered  the  grounds  of  a  villn,  to  get  a  celebrated 
view  of  Florence,  it  began  to  rain.  John  went  to  ask  per- 
mission for  us  to  go  into  the  garden  to  obtain  this  view,  and 
he  also  took  the  liberty  of  inquiring  if  we  might  wait  in  the 
house  till  the  rain  had  ceased.  The  permission  was  readily 
granted,  but  when  he  came  to  the  carriage  to  tell  us,  we 
refused  to  go  in,  as  it  was  a  private  house.     However,  a  gen- 


LETTERS.  151 

tleman  came  out  with  an  umbrella,  and  at  his  polite  invita- 
tion we  went  in.  The  horses  were  sent  to  the  stable,  and 
John  disappeared  with  the  servants,  so  we  could  not  employ 
him  as  an  interpreter ;  we  should  all  have  been  obliged  to 
sit  in  silence,  had  not  an  old  gentleman,  who  seemed  the 
master  of  the  house,  began  to  speak  to  us  in  French.  I  then 
quickly  found  the  use  of  my  tongue,  and  apologized  for  our 
intrusion.  But  he  would  not  admit  that  it  was  any  intrusion 
at  all,  and  two  or  three  ladies  who  were  in  the  room,  smiled 
a  welcome  upon  us.  But  as  soon  as  it  ceased  raining,  we 
rose  to  take  our  leave,  though  not  till  we  were  most  politely 
asked  to  stay  to  supper,  and  even  to  stop  all  night.  But  with 
our  blandest  smiles,  and  my  choicest  French,  we  declined 
and  left  them.  John  told  us  the  villa  belonged  to  Cheva- 
lier   ,  quite  a  great  man.      We   scolded  him  for  getting 

us  into  such  a  predicament,  but  he  is  such  a  good  natured 
old  man,  he  would  not  get  angry  with  us,  and  all  we  could 
get  out  of  him  by  way  of  apology,  was  that,  "  I  was  afraid 
my  mistress"  (thus  he  always  designates  me)  "  would  get 
cold." 

But  when  we  saw  the  charming  view  spread  out  before  us, 
we  forgot  all  else.  How  beautifully  did  Florence  look,  seated 
on  gently  swelling  hills,  with  the  river  Arno  running  through 
her  midst.  Well  may  the  Italians  call  this  city  "la  bella," 
(the  beautiful)  for  she  is  by  far  the  handsomest  city  we  have 
yet  seen,  always  excepting  Paris.  Around,  the  hills  rose 
into  mountains,  whose  sides  and  tops  were  dotted  with  villas 
and  villages.  Here  Galileo  used  to  come  and  study  the 
stars.  There  is  on  the  side  of  the  house  a  marble  slab 
recording  the  fact. 

We  then  rode  through  the  city  and  out  of  the  gates,  and 
passed  near  the  villa  where  the  Hon.  Edward  Everett  at 
present  resides.  The  beauty  of  the  rides  around  this  city  is 
greatly  impaired  by  the  high  stone  walls  that  surround  the 
villas.  I  like  much  better  the  pretty  hedges,  though  stone 
walls  remind  me  more  of  my  own  New  England. 


152  LETTERS. 

A''ter  we  got  back  into  the  city  we  passed  the  house  where 
Americus  Vespucius  was  born.  As  it  was  from  him  our 
country  derived  its  name,  we  looked  upcn  it  with  no  little 
interest.  It  is  a  large  stone  house,  three  stories  in  height. 
There  is  an  inscription  in  marble  over  the  doer,  telling 
whose  birthplace  it  was. 

And  thus  two  pleasant  days  have  passed.  May  the  account 
of  them  furnish  as  much  pleasure  to  you.  And  now,  good 
night. 


Florence,  Thursday  eve. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

I  have  just  sent  off  one  letter  to  you.  We  send  our  letters 
to  our  banker  in  Paris,  and  have  to  pay  to  get  them  out  of 
this  country.  He  then  has  to  pay  the  postage  after  they  get 
into  France  and  out  of  France  for  England,  otherwise  they 
will  not  go  by  the  Liverpool  steamships.  Thus  I  trust  entirely 
to  him  to  have  them  in  England  in  season.  Occasionally,  as 
you  have  seen,  I  have  sent  them  by  some  packet  ship,  direct 
from  the  port  where  I  have  been,  but  as  they  generally  have 
long  passages,  there  is  nothing  gained  by  it,  so  I  now  send 
them  altogether  by  England.  We  have  expected  letters  here, 
but  as  yet  none  have  come. 

And  now  once  more  to  things  in  Florence.  We  visited 
yesterday  morning  the  palace  belonging  to  the  Prince 
Borghese,  who  resides,  however,  the  greater  part  of  the  time 
in  Rome.  We  went  to  see  this  palace,  not  for  the  paintings, 
but  just  to  see  how  a  real  palace,  belonging  to  a  private  gen- 
tleman, looks,  for  the  most  of  those  we  have  visited,  you 
know,  have  been  royal  palaces.  There  are  twenty-seven 
rooms  shown  to  visitors ;  these  are  company  rooms,  the  pri- 
vate rooms  never  being  shown.  These  rooms  were  furnished 
in  the  most  elegant  manner,  and  no  two  are  alike.  The  walls 


LETTERS.  153 

were  hung  with  satin  of  different  colors,  purple,  blue,  yellow, 
green,  crimson,  brown,  dove  colored,  &lc.,  and  the  covering 
of  the  chairs  and  sofas  were  always  of  the  same  color  and 
material  as  the  hangings  of  the  wall.  Some  of  the  rooms 
were  literally  lined  with  mirrors,  over  the  top  of  which  were 
festoons  of  silk  or  damask.  The  card-room  was  hung  with 
jrreen  satin  ;  the  tables  were  of  white  marble,  with  gilt  legs. 
The  dancing  hall  is  very  large,  and  is  a  most  splendid  apart- 
ment. At  each  end  were  two  marble  pillars,  the  ceiling  was 
vaulted  and  painted  in  fresco,  and  all  the  cornices  were  gild- 
ed. The  walls  were  hung  with  festoons  of  blue  and  white 
satin,  with  immense  mirrors  beneath  the  hangings.  There 
were  three  most  elegant  chandeliers  suspended  from  the  ceil- 
ing, and  also  smaller  ones  in  the  shape  of  a  crown  around 
the  walls ;  in  all  there  were  seven  hundred  and  thirty-two 
lamps.  In  several  niches  there  were  fine  marble  statues. 
There  was  a  balcony  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall,  also  hung 
with  blue  and  white  satin,  where  any  ladies  of  the  house, 
who  did  not  wish  to  be  seen,  might  come  and  view  the 
dancers.  There  was  a  small  recess  separated  from  the  hall 
by  two  pillars.  In  this  the  walls  were  gilded.  This  is  for 
the  Grand  Duke,  when  he  honors  the  ball  with  his  presence. 
At  every  carnival  the  Prince  comes  here,  and  gives  a  mas- 
querade ball.  At  the  first  ball  given  in  this  palace,  four 
thousand  and  three  hundred  invitations  were  issued,  and  the 
whole  suite  of  rooms  was  thrown  open. 

In  other  rooms,  the  walls  were  painted  in  landscapes.  The 
frames  of  all  the  chairs,  sofas  and  tables  were  gilt.  Each 
room  had  a  beautiful  carpet,  which  is  quite  a  rare  sight  in 
Italy,  and  all  had  clocks  and  vases  of  elegant  materials  and 
workmanship.  This  certainly  comes  up  to  my  idea  of  a  pal- 
ace more  than  any  thing  I  have  yet  seen. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  suite  of  rooms,  at  the  head  of  the 
staircase,  was  a  chair  in  which  the  former  Princess  used  to 
sit,  and  thus  be  let  down  and  drawn  up  by  some  kind  of  ma- 
chinery, whenever  she  went  out  and  came  in.     Quite  a  com- 


154  LETTERS. 

fortable  arrangement  for  a  lady  who  may  be  too  lazy  or  too 
grand  to  go  up  and  down  stairs  like  other  people. 

The  attendant,  who  has  charge  of  the  apartments,  and 
v/ho  went  round  with  us,  paid  us  quite  a  compliment. 
Though  an  Italian,  he  spoke  French  very  fluently.  In 
speaking  to  us  of  our  country,  I  asked  him  how  he  knew 
Americans  from  Englishmen.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  said,  "Oh,  the  English  are  proud  and  rather  saucy,  the 
Americans  are  more  affable  and  pleasant."  Perhaps  he 
expected  a  larger  fee  than  usual  after  such  praise. 

We  then  visited  the  Church  of  Santa  Croce,  which  was 
built  about  1294.  The  most  of  the  churches  in  Florence 
are  of  a  peculiar  style  of  architecture,  as  least  as  regards  the 
exterior.  The  rough,  unhewn  stone,  of  which  some  of  them 
are  built,  give  them  a  heavy,  and  at  the  same  time  unfinished 
appearance.  Santa  Croce  is  particularly  celebrated  for  its 
monuments.  The  first,  as  you  enter  the  door,  is  that  of  Mi- 
chael Angelo,  the  prince  of  sculptors.  The  sarcophagus  is 
of  white  marble,  on  the  top  of  which  are  three  figures,  rep- 
resenting Painting,  Sculpture  and  Architecture,  mourning 
over  their  favorite  son.  Sculpture  is  sitting,  leaning  for- 
ward in  an  attitude  of  grief;  the  others  are  standing ;  they 
are  all  well  executed. 

Next  to  this  is  a  more  modern  one  erected  by  subscription 
to  Dante.  The  figures  represent  Poetry  and  Italy.  They 
were  sculptured  by  Ricci,  now  a  distinguished  artist,  but 
lately  a  peasant  boy. 

Then  comes  Alfieri's  monument,  done  by  Canova.  On 
the  sarcophagus  leans  Italy  with  grief  on  her  face,  mourning 
for  her  distinguished  son.  There  is  also  a  neat,  chaste  and 
beautiful  monument  erected  to  his  wife.  Also  one  to  Gal- 
ileo, poor,  despised,  persecuted  Galileo,  on  which  are  two 
figures  representing  Astronomy  and  Geometry.  Now  per- 
haps you  are  ready  to  ask  how  I  know  what  all  these  figures 
represent,  and  whether  there  is  any  particular  mark  about 
them,   that  would  lead  one  to  decide  what  they  meant.     I 


LETTERS.  155 

must  confess  that  to  my  eyes  they  look  a  good  deal  alike, 
though  Sculpture  holds  her  own  particular  tools,  and  Paint- 
ing hers,  though  as  for  the  rest  of  them,  Poetry,  Religion 
and  Italy,  I  can't  tell  one  from  another  without  referring  to 
the  guide  to  explain  them. 

We  next  visited  a  spot  hallowed  by  peculiar  associations. 
It  was  the  house  formerly  inhabited  by  Michael  Angelo. 
AVhy  is  it  that  there  is  always  a  charm  about  the  places 
where  great  men  have  lived,  and  that  we  have  such  a  desire 
to  visit  those  spots  ?  A  suite  of  four  rooms  is  shown  just  as 
they  were  left  by  the  great  sculptor  and  painter.  In  one, 
the  walls  are  covered  with  paintings,  depicting  various  events 
in  the  life  of  the  artist,  done  by  some  of  his  pupils.  In  the 
others  were  presents  that  he  had  received  from  various  per- 
sons, his  painting  utensils,  and  fragments  of  his  sculpture. 
I  sat  in  one  of  his  chairs,  a  high,  stiffed  back,  old-fashioned 
chair  covered  with  green  silk,  and  I  fancied  that  here  he 
often  sat  while  visions  of  the  sublime  and  beautiful  floated 
before  his  eyes.  What  glory  and  majesty,  what  beauty 
and  grace  are  embodied  in  his  works !  Shall  we  e'er  look 
upon  his  like  again  ? 

Afterwards  we  went  to  the  chapel  of  the  Medici,  connect- 
ed with  the  church  of  San  Lorenzo.  This  chapel,  though 
not  yet  finished,  has  already  cost  ten  million  dollars  !  What 
should  we  think  of  a  church  like  that  in  our  country  ?  Our 
fellow-countrymen  are  too  much  engaged  in  speculation  and 
trading,  to  think  of  investing  money  in  any  other  way  than 
will  be  for  their  immediate  profit. 

The  chapel  of  the  Medici  is  a  small  edifice  of  an  octan- 
gular form,  and  designed  for  a  burial-place  for  that  distin- 
guished family,  which  has  done  more  than  any  other  to 
beautify  this  city.  It  is  surmounted  by  a  dome,  the  inside 
of  which  is  covered  with  beautiful  paintings,  copies  of  those 
I  saw  in  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts.  The  walls  of  the 
chapel  are  all  of  costly  materials,  nothing  like  common  mar- 
ble being  here   seen.     There  are  large  slabs  of  jasper,  por- 


156  LETTEPwS. 

phyry,  rosso  antico,  (a  species  of  red  marble)  verd  antique 
and  serpentine,  (both  green  marbles  and  considered  priceless) 
alabaster  and  granite,  this  last  quite  different  from  our  gran- 
ite, being  of  the  most  perfect  smoothness  and  polish.  There 
are  six  sarcophagi  of  the  richest  Egyptian  and  oriental  gra- 
nite. On  two  of  them  are  cushions  of  red  jasper,  on  which 
are  crowns  composed  of  precious  stones.  Beneath  these 
sarcophagi  are  the  remains  of  some  of  the  princes  of  the 
Medici  family. 

Behind  this,  is  another  and  still  smaller  chapel,  designed 
by  Michael  Angelo.  The  walls  are  partly  encrusted  with 
rich'  marbles.  Two  of  the  Medici  family  are  here  buried. 
Their  monuments  are  adorned  with  magnificent  sculpture 
by  Michael  Angelo,  though  in  rather  an  unfinished  state, 
death  having  seized  upon  that  great  master  before  he  had 
time  to  perfect  all  that  his  sublime  genius  conceived. 

We  visited  the  studio  of  Signor  Castoli,  who  has  a  noble 
statue  of  Galileo  nearly  finished,  designed  for  the  Pitti  Pal- 
ace. He  has  already  been  engaged  four  years  upon  it.  What 
untiring  patience  and  perseverance,  what  enthusiasm  in  the 
fine  arts,  are  needed  for  accomplishing  such  works  1  But 
then  when  done,  they  last  for  ages.  What  a  stimulus  is  this 
to  the  artist,  who  day  and  night  labors  on,  with  unwearied 
spirit,  with  never-flagging  energy,  that  long  after  he  has 
passed  away  and  his  name  and  race  are  almost  forgotten,  his 
work,  the  noble  conception  of  his  genius,  will  live  and  be 
admired  ! 

After  dinner  yesterday  we  rode  to  Fiesole,  a  village  on 
the  top  of  one  of  the  mountains  that  environ  Florence,  where 
we  had  a  magnificent  view  of  this  city  and  the  surrounding 
country.  The  Arno  looked  like  a  silver  thread  as  it  mean- 
dered along,  and  like  many  other  things,  it  looks  much  better 
at  a  distance,  than  when  seen  near  at  hand,  for  it  is  a  dirty 
miserable  looking  river  seen  from  the  city.  At  this  season 
of  the  year  however,  swollen  by  mountain-streams  and  the 
melting  of  mountain  snows,  it  rushes  rapidly  along,  bearing  on 


LETTERS.  157 

its  bosom  a  great  deal  of  its  mother  earth,  which  gives  it  a 
dirty  and  turbid  appearance.  But  we  have  gone  away  from 
our  airy  height,  so  let  us  once  more  get  back  to  the  mountain 
side.  On  our  right  far  away  in  the  distance  we  saw  the 
dark  woods  of  Vallambrosa,  while  between  us  and  them  lay 
many  a  sheltered  dell  and  smiling  valley.  What  a  glorious 
world  is  this  in  which  we  live  !  Who  can  ever  tire  of  look- 
ing on  the  fair  face  of  nature,  varied  as  it  is  by  mountains 
and  hills,  by  glens  and  glades,  by  lakes  and  streams  1  Back 
and  forth  we  walked,  now  looking  at  this  prospect,  now  at 
that,  till  the  long  shadows  cast  before  us,  warned  us  that  the 
evening  shades  were  fast  approaching,  and  that  we  must 
turn  our  steps  city-ward.  But  to  this  John  would  not  con- 
sent, till  we  had  been  into  a  monastery,  or  as  in  his  broken 
English  he  calls  it,  a  "  monkey  house,"  (fit  name  surely) 
that  was  near  by,  from  which  were  seen  fine  views  of  the 
city.  He  said  they  would  not  allow  me  to  go  in,  neverthe- 
less, when  the  door  was  opened  I  followed  Mr.  D.,  but  I  was 
soon  stopped  by  an  exclamation  from  one  of  the  monks  of 
"  No,  Signora,  no  ;  "  but  I  said,  '*  si,  si,"  (yes,  yes,)  and 
attempted  to  enter,  when  he  gently  put  me  back  with  his 
hand.  However  I  kept  on,  till  he  shut  the  door  against  me, 
when  I  thought  it  was  quite  time  for  me  to  yield.  Besides 
he  quoted  the  authority  of  the  Pope,  who  had  ordered  that 
no  female  should  enter  a  monastery ;  of  course  I  could  not 
resist  "the  holy  father."  By  the  way,  though,  it  is  privately 
rumored  here  that  the  Grand  Duke  has  lately  dared  to  resist 
him,  by  taking  some  land  from  an  immensely  rich  bishop  at 
Pisa,  and  appropriating  it  for  the  poor.  The  bishop  went  to 
the  Pope  for  redress,  but  the  Grand  Duke  refused  to  yield 
the  point,  and  so  the  Pope  sent  him  a  private  excommuni- 
cation, which  however  has  produced  no  change  in  his  deter- 
mination. Now  whether  "his  holiness,"  will  proceed  to 
extremities  and  publicly  excommunicate  him,  is  doubtful, 
but  if  he  should,  there  may  arise  a  contest,  that  will  shake 
the  pontifical  power  to  its  very  centre. 
14 


158  LETTERS. 

John  would  not  leave  me  alone,  to  go  in  the  monastery 
with  the  gentlemen;  nothing  would  induce  him  to  leave  "  his 
mistress,"  even  though  told  they  could  not  understand  any 
thing  without  him.  I  really  believe  he  thought  I  might  be 
spirited  away,  so  he  followed  me  while  I  walked  to  that  part 
of  the  hill  where  I  could  gaze  down  on  the  luxuriant  coun- 
try below.  Nor  was  he  the  only  one  that  kept  near  me,  for 
at  one  time  I  counted  more  than  a  dozen  beggars  around  me. 
In  this  city  I  have  seen  but  one  beggar,  for  if  any  one  is 
here  seen  begging,  he  is  taken  up  and  carried  to  the  poor- 
house. 

To-day  there  has  been  a  great  fete,  a  sort  of  religious 
ceremony,  called  Corpus  Domini,  though  for  what  purpose 
it  was  instituted  I  know  not  We  were  awakened  very  early 
by  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  the  sound  of  people  in  the 
streets.  We  had  breakfast  at  half-past  six  (a  barbarous  hour 
for  us)  and  very  soon  after  went  to  the  church,  where  the 
most  of  the  ceremonies  were  to  take  place.  All  the  shops 
in  the  city  were  closed ;  the  whole  population  seemed  to  be 
in  the  streets.  From  the  Cathedral  where  the  procession 
commenced,  to  the  church  where  the  ceremonies  were  per- 
formed, a  covered  way  was  erected  for  the  people  to  walk 
under.  The  ground  was  strewed  with  sprigs  of  green,  and  the 
windows  of  all  the  houses  were  hung  with  damask  of  various 
colors.  When  we  arrived  at  the  church  we  found  it  one 
blaze  of  light.  The  chandeliers  were  all  lit  up,  and  dozens 
of  large  wax  candles  were  burning  on  the  altar.  The  walls 
and  pillars  were  hung  with  crimson  damask.  We  had  to 
wait  a  long  time  in  the  church,  but  we  had  taken  the  pre- 
caution to  secure  chairs,  and  by  paying  a  small  fee  to  one 
of  the  priests,  he  procured  us  seats  in  the  nave,  through 
which  the  procession  was  to  pass.  The  church  was  crowd- 
ed, yet  the  most  perfect  order  was  preserved.  Soldiers 
were  stationed  all  around  to  see  that  every  thing  was  right. 
After  being  there  about  an  hour  and  a  half,  we  heard  the 
music,  which  announced  the  coming  of  the  procession,  and 


LETTERS.  159 

a  procession  indeed  it  was,  for  I  should  think  it  consisted  of 
several  thousand  persons,  and  such  looking  people  I  never 
before  savr.  Our  old-fashioned  militia  training  on  the  first 
day  of  April  was  fine  compared  with  this  "  turn  out."  It 
seems  that  about  all  the  men  in  Florence,  the  nobility 
excepted,  unite  in  companies  on  this  occasion,  and  each 
company  chooses  a  particular  dress,  their  object  being  to 
imitate  the  different  orders  of  monks.  To-day  they  were 
dressed  in  loose  slouching  robes,  made  of  coarse  cloth, 
and  of  the  most  ugly  colors  imaginable,  dingy  white,  dirty 
brown,  rusty  black,  chocolate,  lead  and  snuif  colored. 
They  wore  on  their  heads  a  sort  of  hood,  which  was  brought 
down  over  their  faces,  so  that  only  their  eyes  were  seen 
peering  through  little  holes  cut  in  the  cloth.  At  the  head 
of  each  company  walked  a  man  having  under  a  canopy  a 
large  crucifix.  Some  of  their  canopies  were  very  rich, 
being  of  crimson  velvet  embroidered  with  gold.  There 
were  several  thousand  men  in  this  grotesque  attire.  They 
walked  up  through  the  nave  of  the  church,  and  then  down 
one  of  the  side  aisles,  each  one  bending  on  one  knee,  as  he 
passed  by  the  high  altar,  and  singing  as  they  walked  along, 
the  ambition  of  each  seeming  to  be,  which  should  sing  the 
loudest.  Can  you  imagine  any  thing  less  like  a  religious  cere- 
mony 1  After  these  had  passed,  then  came  the  monks  in  the 
dress  of  their  different  orders,  the  Dominicans,  Augustinians, 
Franciscans,  Capuchins,  &c.  A  monk  is  always  dressed  in 
a  loose  flowing  robe  of  coarse  woollen  cloth,  girt  round  the 
waist  by  a  small  rope,  the  knotted  ends  of  which  hang  down 
below  the  knees,  (and,  by  the  way,  I  suppose  it  is  with  this 
that  they  scourge  themselves  when  they  do  penance.)  The 
sleeves  are  loose  and  hanging.  A  large  hood  is  attached 
to  the  neck  of  the  robe,  and  can  be  drawn  down  over  the 
head  when  occasion  requires.  Their  heads  are  shaved  bare 
in  a  circle  round  the  crown,  which  however  is  covered  by  a 
small  cap,  and  only  seen  when  the  cap  is  removed,  in  bow- 
ing before  the  altar.     Instead  of  shoes  thev  wear  sandals. 


160  LETTERS. 

and  no  stockings,  and  their  bare  feet  (not  always  the  clean- 
est) seen  peeping  out  from  under  their  robes,  are  by  no 
means  the  least  singular  part  of  their  appearance.  The 
Franciscans  wear  brown  robes,  the  Dominicans  or  Augus- 
tinians,  I  have  forgotten  which,  white,  and  the  Capuchins, 
who  have  very  long  beards,  dark  brown.  After  all  the 
monks  had  come  and  gone,  though  where  they  went  to  after 
they  passed  down  the  church,  I  cannot  tell,  came  the 
priests  dressed  in  their  robes  of  office.  Of  these  I  counted 
nearly  one  thousand.  Then  came  two  or  three  bishops,  in 
white  satin  robes  elegantly  embroidered,  and  walking  under 
a  canopy  of  white  silk,  borne  by  six  priests.  After  them 
walked  the  nobles,  the  lawyers  and  judges  of  the  court,  all 
splendidly  dressed,  some  in  robes  of  silk  of  different  colors, 
others  in  black  with  a  broad  blue  scarf  round  the  waist,  and 
others  still  in  black  bordered  with  ermine.  Last  of  all  came 
the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  in  a  robe  of  white  satin,  with 
a  scarlet  mantle  over  his  shoulders,  his  train  being  borne  by 
two  pages,  dressed  in  coats  and  pantaloons  of  white  silk, 
trimmed  with  gold  lace.  Directly  in  front  of  us  was  his 
chair  covered  with  crimson  velvet.  He  did  not  sit  down 
however,  but  knelt  at  a  little  table  before  it.  When  he 
arose  from  his  knees,  he  walked  down  the  aisle,  and  I  saw 
no  more  of  him.  He  is  a  tall,  thin  man,  rather  pale,  his 
hair  a  little  grey,  and  his  nose  slightly  upturned.  On  the 
whole  he  has  a  pleasing,  though  not  a  handsome  face.  He 
appeared  as  grave  and  devout  as  one  of  our  puritan  ances- 
tors would  have  looked,  while  listening  to  a  learned  dis- 
course from  some  of  the  gifted,  though  how  he  can  patronize 
a  parade  like  this,  so  unlike  a  religious  festival,  is  more 
than  I  can  tell.  I  forgot  before  to  say  that  he,  and  nearly 
all  the  priests  and  nobles  carried  lighted  torches  in  their 
hands,  and  about  as  queer  a  thing  as  any,  was  to  see  little 
boys  walking  along  by  the  torches,  with  papers  in  their 
hands,  to  catch  the  drops  of  grease  as  they  fell. 

We  cared  not  to  stay  to  see  the  rest  of  the  show,  so  as  soon 


LETTERS.  161 

as  the  Grand  Duke  left,  we  left  also.  We  tried  to  get  out  in 
season  to  see  him  ride  away  from  the  church,  but  there  was 
such  a  crowd  as  to  render  it  quite  impossible.  I  never  was 
in  such  a  jam  before.  I  really  thought  at  one  time  I  should 
be  pressed  to  death.  I  was  almost  suffocated,  so  I  was  glad 
to  come  back  home  and  rest  awhile.  We  seated  ourselves 
in  a  little  balcony  front  of  our  window,  and  there  looked  out 
upon  the  passers  by.  Crowds  of  people  were  in  the  streets, 
dressed  in  their  best  attire,  looking  neat  and  clean.  The 
women  all  wore  large  leghorn  hats.  All  passed  by  in  a  quiet 
and  orderly  manner,  no  appearance  of  rioting  and  drunken- 
ness whatever.  Then  came  a  band  of  music.  All  the 
musicians  had  their  notes  fastened  on  to  some  part  of 
their  instrument,  so  that  they  could  look  at  them  as  they 
played.  A  long  procession  of  priests  and  monks  then  fol- 
lowed. 

Being  somewhat  rested,  we  walked  out  to  see  what  was 
going  on.  The  festival  in  the  church  was  over,  and  the 
people  were  returning  to  their  houses  and  various  occupa- 
tions. 

We  visited  the  studio  of  Mr.  Powers,  a  young  American 
sculptor  of  much  promise.  He  has  busts  of  many  of  our 
distinguished  fellow  countrymen ;  Jackson,  Van  Buren, 
Granger,  and  some  others.  But  the  finest  piece  of  his  work- 
manship is  the  statue  of  a  young  girl,  I  think  Genevra,  so 
well  known  from  Rogers'  touching  tale.  The  figure  is  small, 
but  charming ;  the  face,  lovely.  The  hair  is  combed  back 
from  the  brow,  and  gathered  into  two  or  three  curls  behind  ; 
the  throat  and  bust  are  beautiful,  and  modestly  covered  with 
a  light  drapery.  On  the  whole,  it  is  a  charming  thing,  so 
chaste  and  so  lovely.  He  is  at  present  at  work  on  the  statue 
of  Eve ;  from  the  clay  cast,  it  will  be  most  beautiful  when 
done.  May  we  not  hope  that  our  country  will  yet  boast  cf 
sculptors,  worthy  of  walking  in  the  footsteps  of  Canova  and 
Ricci,  and  Michael  Angelo  ? 

We  went  also  to  the  studio  of  Mr.  Greenough,  another 
14* 


162  LETTERS. 

American  artist.  We  were  disappointed  in  not  seeing  his 
statue  of  Washington.  It  has  lately  been  sent  to  Leghorn, 
to  go  from  there  to  the  United  States.  He  has  orders  from 
government  at  home  for  another  work,  to  adorn  the  grounds 
of  the  Capitol.  He  showed  us  the  model  in  plaster.  A 
woman,  holding  in  her  arms  her  babe,  kneels  before  an  In- 
dian, who,  with  tomahawk  in  hand,  has  just  raised  his  arm 
to  strike,  when  the  husband  appears,  seizes  him  on  the 
shoulder,  and  thus  averts  the  threatened  blow.  It  will  cer- 
tainly be  a  grand  work  when  completed.  He  expects  to  be 
at  least  three  years  in  doing  it. 

We  went  to  see  still  another  artist  from  our  own  land, 
Mr.  Clavenger.  He  has  a  few  heads  of  some  distinguished 
Americans.  Have  we  not  reason  to  be  proud  of  our  young 
countrymen  ?  I  hope  to  see  the  time  when  they  will  return 
home  laden  wath  the  rich  fruits  of  their  genius. 

After  dinner,  we  rode  a  little  distance  out  of  the  city  to  a 
ground  for  ball  playing.  This  had  a  high  wall  on  one  side, 
and  on  the  other,  rows  of  seats  for  spectators.  There  were 
eight  players,  all  dressed  in  white  clothes,  short  breeches  and 
kid  shoes.  They  showed  great  agility  and  strength.  I  was 
quite  interested  in  seeing  them.  Indeed,  I  have  stood  up  so 
much  to-day,  that  I  was  glad  to  sit  there  a  little  while  in  the 
fresh  air. 

iifterwards  we  rode  on  a  little  farther  tow^ard  a  church, 
where  there  seemed  to  be  ceremonies  similar  to  those  we 
witnessed  in  the  morning,  excepting  that  it  was  on  a  much 
smaller  scale.  All  the  houses  in  the  neighborhood  had  little 
rows  of  lamps  fixed  on  the  outside,  and  damask  hanging 
from  the  windows,  this  damask  being  hired  for  the  occasion. 

We  came  home  through  the  beautiful  Cascine,  though  it 
was  so  late,  its  beauties  were  almost  lost  upon  us. 

I  really  am  too  tired  and  sleepy  to  write  another  word  ;  so 
good  night. 


LETTERS.  163 


Bologna,  Saturdaj^  eve. 
My  dear  F.  : 

Once  more  we  are  upon  the  wing.  We  left  Florence  yes- 
terday morning,  with  the  same  horses  and  carriage  and 
driver  we  had  from  Rome.  Poor  John  appeared  to  feel  much 
afflicted  at  parting  from  us.  After  seeing  all  our  packages, 
books,  maps  and  cloaks  safely  stowed  away  in  the  carriage, 
he  came  to  me  with  his  parting  gift,  neatly  folded  in  a  piece 
of  paper.  It  was  several  wafers,  such  as  are  used  by  the 
Romish  priests  in  the  administration  of  the  holy  commun- 
ion. They  are  quite  large,  round,  and  very  thin,  and  are 
stamped  with  a  crucifix.  They  are  made  of  a  kind  of  paste. 
After  we  were  all  seated  in  the  carriage,  he  came  round  by 
m.y  side,  and  softly  said,  '*  Now  my  mistress,  I  have  one  great 
favor  to  ask  you  ;  will  you  let  me  kiss  your  hand?  "  I  readily 
gave  him  my  hand ;  he  gently  took  it  and  impressed  upon  it 
a  warm,  fervent  kiss,  while  the  large  tears  stood  in  his  eyes. 
He  was  a  kind-hearted,  good-natured  old  man,  and  at  our 
first  interview  we  quite  won  his  heart  by  inquiring  after  his 
family,  so  that  ever  since  then  he  has  been  devoted  to  us.  I 
found  him  at  the  door  of  my  room  early  in  the  morning,  and 
he  never  left  us  in  the  evening  till  he  was  sure  we  needed 
nothing  more  from  him  that  night. 

We  stopped  last  night  at  Pietra-mala,  a  small,  dirty  town, 
about  thirty-two  miles  from  Florence.  The  lower  story  of 
the  inn  was  used  as  a  stable,  so  you  may  well  imagine  our 
room  had  rather  a  "  barny  "  smell.  While  waiting  for  our 
dinner,  we  took  a  little  boy  for  a  guide,  and  walked  to  a 
small  volcano  about  a  mile  from  the  town.  Our  way  lay 
over  stony  and  rough  paths,  through  thickets  and  dells,  and 
over  babbling  brooks,  till  we  reached  the  desired  spot.  All 
along  I  was  on  the  lookout  for  the  mountain,  but  found  to 
my  astonishment,  that  instead  of  ascending  we  were  descend- 
ing all  the  time,  and  were  actually  within  the  crater  of  a 
half  extinct  volcano.     From  a  spot  about  twelve  or  fifteen 


164  LETTERS. 

feet  in  diameter,  the  fire  issued  from  several  different  open- 
ings. It  seemed  to  us  like  a  species  of  gas,  similar  to  that 
we  saw  in  the  "  Grotto  del  Cane,"  near  Naples.  Some  water 
was  thrown  on  the  fire,  and  it  was  immediately  extinguished, 
but  on  a  lighted  taper  being  held  over  the  opening,  it  was 
instantly  rekindled. 

This  noon  we  stopped  at  Peonora,  where  we  took  an  early 
dinner.  Just  as  we  arrived  there,  it  began  to  rain,  and  such 
a  storm  I  scarcely  before  witnessed.  The  rain  and  the  hail 
actually  poured  down,  accompanied  by  sharp  lightning  and 
heavy  thunder.  The  inn  was  a  scene  of  unusual  bustle.  A 
large  washing  had  that  morning  been  done,  and  the  clothes 
were  nearly  dry,  when  the  rain  suddenly  came,  and  then 
such  a  scampering  of  women  and  maids  !  Even  the  master 
of  the  house,  a  great  fat,  portly  man,  seemed  to  feel  deeply 
the  melancholy  condition  of  affairs,  for  when  he  came  in  to 
lay  the  cloth  for  dinner,  I  thought  I  must  say  something,  as 
1  found  he  spoke  French,  so  I  took  the  weather  for  my  topic, 
and  said,  "  How  it  rains  ;  "  to  which  he  instantly  responded 
in  a  sad  tone  of  voice,  and  with  the  most  lugubrious  face 
imaginable,  "  Ah,  yes !  Madame,  and  all  our  clothes  are 
out ! " 

But  most  of  all  was  I  interested  in  observing  the  rapid  rise 
in  a  small  stream  near  the  house.  I  even  forgot  the  thunder 
and  the  lightning,  generally  such  a  source  of  terror  to  me. 
When  we  first  arrived  at  the  inn,  it  was  a  little  brook  that 
any  child  might  have  leaped  over,  but  in  less  than  a  half 
hour  it  was  swollen  to  a  mountain  torrent,  and  it  went  foam- 
ing and  dashing  on,  down  the  hill-side  and  through  the  vale, 
as  though  it  would  sweep  all  before  it.  You  may  easily 
imagine  from  this,  how  soon  a  river,  fed  by  a  dozen  such 
streams,  would  rise  and  overflow  its  banks,  and  cause  inun- 
dations similar  to  those  I  have  before  mentioned  to  you. 

The  country  between  Florence  and  this  city  was  moun- 
tainous. We  once  more  crossed  a  part  of  the  Apennines, 
and  were  oblisred  aorain  to  have  oxen  to  assist  us.     Some 


LETTERS.  165 

parts  of  the  scenery  were  very  grand,  presenting  high 
mountains,  some  rugged  and  barren  and  *'  rock-ribbed," 
others  green  and  fertile,  deep  bright  vales,  stretching  far 
down,  sometimes  well  cultivated,  at  others  in  all  the  wild 
luxuriance  of  nature.  Now  our  road  was  through  woods 
darkening  our  way,  and  then  over  barren  and  desolate  tracts 
of  land.  We  saw  but  few  houses  on  the  road,  save  those 
collected  in  scattered  villages,  and  here  and  there  guard- 
houses for  soldiers,  stationed  among  the  mountain  fastnesses. 
The  deep  silence  was  often  unbroken,  except  by  the  wheels 
of  our  carriage,  and  ever  and  anon  the  faint  tinkling  of 
bells,  borne  on  the  wind  from  some  sheltered  dell.  And 
such  changeable  weather  as  we  had  ;  I  never  before  saw  the 
like.  At  one  time  the  sun  would  be  unclouded,  the  next 
moment  the  rain  would  fall  as  though  a  second  deluge  was 
about  to  visit  the  earth,  and  by  the  time  the  carriage  win- 
dows were  well  closed,  and  J.  had  dismounted  from  the 
coachman's  box,  where  he  generally  sits,  and  had  entered 
the  carriage,  to  the  great  inconvenience  of  books  and  maps 
plentifully  sprinkled  over  the  empty  seat,  the  sun  would  once 
more  be  shining  in  undimmed  brilliancy.  Again,  a  fierce, 
cold  blast  would  come  sweeping  through  a  mountain  pass, 
and  shawls,  coats  and  cloaks  had  quickly  to  be  drawn  from 
their  hiding  places,  and  by  the  time  we  were  well  wrapped 
in  their  warm  folds,  we  would  find  the  heat  intolerable.  And 
yet  we  enjoyed  the  ride  and  the  country,  and  often  got  out 
and  walked  some  distance.  All  around  us  were  mountains 
piled  on  mountains,  lifting  their  lofty  summits  to  the  skies, 
the  clouds  seeming  to  repose  on  their  tops,  while  far  down 
we  saw  valleys  and  plains,  robed  in  beauteous  green,  varied 
here  and  there  by  a  turreted  castle  or  a  village. 

This  morning  we  once  more  came  into  the  dominions  of 
the  Papa  (as  the  Pope  is  here  called),  where  our  passports 
were  examined,  and  doubtless  our  trunks  would  have  under- 
gone a  severe  scrutiny,  had  not  Francesco  paid  something  to 
let  us  pass  without  it.     But  the  idea  of  bribing  those  well- 


166  LETTERS. 

dressed,  good-looking  officers  !  one  would  think  they  would 
scorn  a  fee  of  a  couple  of  pauls,  but,  on  the  contrary,  they 
bow,  and  graciously  acknowledge  it  with  a  smile.  In  fact 
one  gets  off  much  cheaper  by  so  doing,  than  by  letting  them 
take  their  own  course,  for  they  are  altogether  above  unstrap- 
ping and  lifting  off  a  trunk  themselves ;  inferior  attendants 
do  that,  and  they  exact  quite  a  fee  for  taking  off  and  putting 
back  three  large  trunks.  We  instantly  discovered  a  differ- 
ence in  the  aspect  of  the  country  from  what  it  was  in  Tus- 
cany, and  particularly  in  the  roads.  These,  in  the  Grand 
Duke's  dominions,  are  perfect;  they  are  all  macadamized, 
and  at  regular  intervals  by  the  roadside,  you  will  see  heaps 
of  little  stones  all  prepared,  and  ready  to  be  put  immedi- 
ately where  repairs  are  necessary. 

From  Peonora  to  Bologna  the  ride  was  delightful,  through 
a  fertile  and  well  cultivated  country,  by  the  side  of  a  rush- 
ing stream,  and  in  sight  of  many  beautiful  country  seats. 
But  unfortunately  for  us,  just  before  we  reached  this  city, 
the  rain  began  to  pour  down,  which  effectually  prevented  us 
from  seeing  the  beauty  of  the  environs.  However,  as  usual, 
it  soon  became  pleasant  again.  Bologna  is  delightfully  sit- 
uated in  the  midst  of  the  richest  plains.  It  is  surrounded 
by  a  wall,  with  all  its  appendages  of  moats,  drawbridges, 
and  gates.  We  w^ere  kept  at  least  a  half  hour  at  the  gates 
waiting  for  our  passports  to  be  examined,  till  we  all  were 
thoroughly  out  of  patience.  Francesco  too  has  to  have  his 
passport,  which  is  as  duly  examined  as  ours.  Often  too  he 
has  to  dismount  from  his  box  and  stand  quietly  by,  while  it 
is  searched  to  see  if  any  contraband  articles  are  there  hid- 
den. In  vain  we  assure  the  officers  that  the  carriage  belongs 
to  us,  that  we  have  hired  it  for  the  occasion,  and  have  full 
control  over  it ;  they  assure  us,  in  turn,  that  they  do  not 
doubt  us,  but  our  coachman.  After  all,  they  will  do  as  they 
like,  and  the  best  way  is  to  take  it  all  patiently  ;  for  if  you 
bluster  and  get  angry,  they  search  the  more  rigorously,  being 
convinced  that  you  then  have  concealed  something. 


LETTERS.  167 

No  sooner  had  we  selected  our  rooms,  than  we  started  off 
to  view  the  city ;  and  oh  !  how  greatly  were  we  disappointed 
in  it !  For  two  days  we  had  feasted  our  imaginations  on 
the  beautiful  descriptions  of  this  city  given  by  Carter,  an 
American  traveller,  and  we  rejoiced  that  we  could  stop  a 
day  in  so  charming  a  spot.  But  oh  !  how  often  does  im- 
agination mislead  us  !  Instead  of  "  the  rows  of  houses,  with 
colonnades  in  front,  supported  by  handsome  pillars,  in  some 
places  of  marble,"  we  saw  indeed  the  houses  and  the  colon- 
nades, and  the  pillars,  but  the  houses  were  plain,  and  the 
pillars  of  brick,  slightly  covered  with  mortar.  In  all  our 
walk  I  saw  not  a  handsome  house.  Near  the  walls  of  the 
city  is  a  circular  corso  which  is  very  pretty  ;  the  centre  is 
covered  with  grass,  and  planted  with  trees,  the  rides  and 
walks  running  around  it. 

We  entered  a  church,  the  walls  of  which  were  hung  with 
red  damask,  and  before  it  was  a  covered  way,  so  I  suppose 
"  Corpus  Domini  "  was  celebrated  here  too.  We  visited 
one  or  two  galleries  of  paintings,  where  we  saw  some  fine 
pictures.  Bologna  has  given  birth  to  many  distinguished 
artists,  the  Caracci,  Doraenichino,  Albano,  Guido,  and  Eliz- 
abeth Serani.  In  one  of  the  galleries  are  collected  the 
pictures  that  were  taken  from  the  different  churches  by 
Napoleon,  and  carried  to  Paris,  and  here  are  some  of  the 
best  specimens  of  the  Bolognese  school. 

We  went  into  the  Church  of  St.  Dominick  to  see  a  cele- 
brated piece  of  sculpture.  It  is  on  the  high  altar,  which  is 
also  the  tomb  of  St.  Dominick.  On  the  front  are  bas-reliefs 
representing  scenes  in  the  life  of  that  saint,  from  the  time 
he  lay  a  babe  on  his  bed,  till  he  was  received  into  glory  and 
sat  on  the  left  hand  of  God  !  In  front  of  the  sarcophagus 
are  two  cherubs  kneeling,  one  of  which,  a  sweet  little 
gem,  was  done  by  Michael  Angelo. 

I  have  sat  here  this  evening  writing  to  you,  while  J.  is  out 
taking  a  quiet  walk.  Mr.  D.  and  Mr.  T.  have  long  since 
retired  to  their  rooms,  and  I  sit  in  our  part  of  the  hotel  en- 


168  LETTERS. 

tirely  alone,  and  yet  not  lonely,  for  in  writing  thus  to  you 
of  all  that  I  see  and  hear,  1  feel  as  though  I  were  almost 
talking  with  you.  But  now  I  am  through  with  what  I  have 
to  tell  you,  and  I  begin  to  wonder  at  J.'s  absence.  Not  so 
much  that  I  feel  that  any  ill  has  befallen  him,  for  you  well 
know  that  it  is  not  in  my  temperament  to  anticipate  evil,  but 
he  has  the  keys  with  him,  and  I  can't  get  at  my  journal,  and 
so  for  the  first  time  this  many  a  week  I  sit  in  idleness,  won- 
dering what  I  shall  do  next.  But  hark  !  I  hear  a  step,  and 
the  well-known  voice.  He  enters,  looking  wearied  and 
flushed.  And  where  do  you  think  he  has  been  the  last  two 
hours  1  Why,  wandering  through  the  narrow,  dark  streets 
of  Bologna,  trying  in  vain  to  find  our  hotel.  The  name  of 
it  he  had  entirely  forgotten.  He  went  into  two  or  three 
cafes  and  shops,  but  could  find  no  one  that  understood 
French.  He  tried  Latin  ;  all  in  vain  ;  to  the  common  people 
of  Bologna  that  was  indeed  a  "  dead  language."  At  last, 
fatigued  and  dispirited,  he  went  into  a  cafe,  and  there,  by 
dint  of  mixing  French,  and  Italian  and  Latin  together,  he 
found  a  waiter  that  could  be  made  to  understand  his  situa- 
tion, and  he  showed  him  the  way  home,  though  not  without 
making  known  first  that  he  should  expect  his  "  buono  mano." 
From  the  circumstance  of  all  the  houses  in  this  city  being 
built  on  the  same  plan,  with  a  colonnade  row  in  front,  it  is 
exceedingly  difficult  to  find  one's  way  about,  even  in  the 
daytime  ;  add  to  this,  the  narrow,  ill-lighted  streets  of  an 
Italian  town,  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  one  should  get  be- 
wildered. 

Sunday. 

This  morning  we  went  to  the  Cathedral,  which  proved 
to  be  the  same  church  we  visited  yesterday.  About  one 
hundred  priests  were  going  in  procession  around  the  church, 
chanting  in  responses,  one  part  saying  something,  and  the 
other  singing,  in  answer,  "  ora  pro  nobis,"  (pray  for  us). 

In  the  Church  of  St.  Peter  are  windows  of  painted  glass, 
through  which  the  light  streamed  beautifully.     Here  too   is 


LETTERS.  169 

a  celebrated  meridian,  which  extends  nearly  the  length  of 
the  church.  The  sun  shines  in  upon  it  through  a  small 
opening  high  up  in  the  wall. 

There  are  two  leaning  towers  in  Bologna,  one  inclining 
four  feet,  and  the  other  eight,  from  the  perpendicular,  but 
they  possess  neither  the  classic  elegance  and  lightness  of 
the  one  at  Pisa,  nor  the  ancient  Gothic  magnificence  of  the 
Campanile  at  Florence. 

After  dinner  to-day  we  rode  out  to  the  Campo  Santo.  The 
ride  was  through  a  most  beautiful  country,  and  what  ren- 
dered it  still  more  lovely,  there  were  no  high  stone  walls  to 
hide  the  beauties  fr6m  the  eye,  as  at  Florence ;  nothing  but 
the  low  hawthorn  hedge,  over  which  we  could  see  the  fields 
teeming  with  grain.  The  Campo  Santo  occupies  the  ground 
where  once  stood  a  convent ;  in  fact  its  very  cloisters  are 
now  receptacles  of  the  dead.  This  is  a  very  extensive  cem- 
etery ;  the  monuments  line  the  walls,  but  the  most  of  them 
are  shabby,  the  figures  being  of  plaster  instead  of  marble. 
There  are  one  or  two  fine  monuments,  however  ;  one,  a  copy 
of  Canova's  beautiful  piece  in  St.  Peter's,  and  another, 
having  on  it  a  veiled  figure  in  imitation  of  the  one  at  Na- 
ples, but  altogether  inferior  to  it.  In  the  church  connected 
with  this  cemetery  are  some  good  frescoes.  In  side  chapels 
are  chains  taken  from  Christian  captives  belonging  to  Bo- 
logna, who  had  been  at  one  time  prisoners  in  Arabia  and 
Turkey.  Every  where  I  went  about  in  this  cemetery  I  was 
followed  by  a  priest,  who  never  took  his  eyes  from  me.  I 
was  actually  frightened,  and  once  asked  one  of  the  attend- 
ants who  he  was,  and  what  he  wanted.  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  said  either  that  he  was  crazy  or  foolish,  and 
which  he  meant  I  don't  know,  as  the  same  word  expresses 
the  two  diflTerent  meanings.  Any  way,  I  was  excessively  an- 
noyed, and  was  glad  to  get  in  the  carriage  and  come  off. 

We  then  rode  toward  the  Church  of  San  Luca,  which  is 
situated  on  a  hill  three  miles  from  the  city,  and  from  which 
a  covered  way  supported  by  arches  and  pillars,  extends  the 
15 


170  LETTERS. 

whole  distance.  We  left  the  carriage  and  walked  a  little 
way  up  the  hill,  not  intending  to  go  to  the  church,  but  Mr. 
D.  and  Mr.  T.  got  ahead  of  us,  and  we  lost  sight  of  them. 
They  pressed  on,  thinking  that  for  once  they  would  outstrip 
us,  and  so  we  had  to  wait  for  them  to  come  back,  as  we  of 
course  had  no  way  of  knowing  how  far  they  had  gone,  nor 
how  soon  they  would  turn  back. 

From  this  spot  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  luxuriant  coun- 
try in  the  midst  of  which  Bologna  is  situated.  We  saw  the 
range  of  mountains  we  crossed  in  coming  from  Florence ; 
at  their  feet  the  country  stretched  out  for  miles  in  a  perfect 
plain,  with  a  little  river  winding  along  in  the  midst  of  it.  It 
was  cultivated  to  the  highest  degree,  and  looked  like  a  rich 
garden.  We  could  plainly  see  Modena,  at  a  distance  of 
twenty-three  miles,  lifting  its  spires  to  the  sky.  After  wait- 
ing two  hours  for  the  gentlemen,  we  got  quite  tired,  and 
came  back  to  our  hotel,  but  our  coachman  misunderstanding 
our  orders,  came  by  a  circuitous  route,  so  that  when  we  got 
home  we  found  the  truants  here  before  us.  They  must  have 
come  down  immediately  after  we  left ;  finding  no  carriage 
waiting  they  got  home  as  quickly  as  possible,  while  it  was 
light  enough  for  them  to  see  their  way. 

And  now  I  once  more  bid  you  farewell. 


Febrara,  Wednesday  evening. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

We  left  Bologna  this  morning  by  half  past  five.  How 
beautifully  the  country  looks  at  this  early  hour,  with  the  dew 
laying  on  the  long  grass  and  shining  like  diamonds.  The 
country  is  perfectly  level  from  Bologna  here  ;  the  road  is 
bordered  with  trees,  mostly  poplars.  A  great  deal  of  hemp 
is  raised  on  these  plains,  and  the  number  of  little  ponds  used 
for  rotting  the  hemp   serves  to  create   an   unwholesome  air, 


LETTERS.  171 

SO  that  this  district  of  the  country  is  but  thinly  inhabited. 
The  few  people  we  did  meet,  looked  pale  and  thin.  They 
have  the  queerest  looking  things  for  common  carriages  on 
this  road,  I  ever  saw.  It  is  just  like  four  poles,  fastened 
together  in  the  form  of  a  square,  over  which  is  thrown  a  net- 
ting of  rope.  On  this  netting  is  fixed  a  kind  of  seat,  and 
this  is  the  whole  of  the  vehicle.  The  shafts  are  on  top  of 
the  horse,  so  that  the  thing  looks  all  the  time  as  though  it 
were  tipping  backwards. 

This  is  quite  a  large  city,  but  without  any  pretensions  to 
beauty  or  elegance.  It  looks  in  fact,  like  what  it  is,  a  place 
that  has  seen  its  best  days.  The  houses  are  dirty,  the  streets 
in  some  places  wide,  in  others  narrow,  and  oftentimes  grass- 
grown. 

We  visited  the  library,  which  contains  (I  declare  I  have 
forgotten  already  how  many  volumes)  and  in  which  is  the 
tomb  of  Ariosto,  which  would  be  quite  a  magnificent  affair, 
were  it  not  built  of  marble  of  all  colors,  which  mingled  to- 
gether without  any  taste,  greatly  mars  the  effect.  Here  is 
the  poet's  arm-chair,  now  moth-eaten,  and  time-worn.  In 
this  chair  I  sat,  though  alas!  no  inspiration  came  to  me,  called 
I  never  so  loudly  for  it.  We  saw  also  his  inkstand,  which  is 
of  iron,  with  a  carved  figure  on  the  top  of  it ;  also  a  medal 
found  in  his  tomb,  on  one  side  of  which  is  his  bust,  and  on 
the  other  a  serpept,  the  emblem  of  eternity.  We  saw  the 
manuscript  of  Orlando  Furioso,  and  some  letters  signed  Lu- 
dovico  Ariosto,  also  some  of  Tasso's  letters  and  his  manu- 
script of  "  Jerusalem  Delivered."  There  were  many  cor- 
rections in  the  lines ;  the  margin  was  often  covered  with 
alterations  and  suggestions,  sometimes  a  piece  of  paper  cov- 
ered a  whole  verse,  and  another  written  in  its  stead.  Here 
too  were  the  manuscript  of  Guarini's  "  Pastor  Fidus,"  and 
the  first  edition  of  Orlando  Furioso  ever  published.  It 
was  printed  early  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  was  purchas- 
ed by  this  library  for  one  thousand  dollars.  I  counted  more 
than  ten  different  editions  of  the  same  poem,  some  of  which 
were  in  foreign  languages. 


172 


LETTERS. 


We  then  went  to  the  prison  of  Tasso,  a  cell  beneath  the 
hospital  of  Sant'Anna.  It  is  several  feet  under  ground,  and 
his  at  present  no  window,  though  at  the  time  the  poet  was 
here  confined,  there  was  a  window  that  looked  upon  the 
street  and  the  Ducal  palace,  so  that  occasionally  he  could 
catch  a  glimpse  of  his  fair  mistress.  It  was  formerly  con- 
nected with  a  garden,  though  there  are  no  remains  of  it  at 
present  seen.  On  the  outside  of  the  cell  is  an  inscription 
in  marble,  that  here  Tasso  was  confined  seven  years  and 
three  months,  though  Carter  only  makes  it  seven  weeks  ;  on 
what  authority  I  know  not.  It  certainly  must  have  been 
longer  than  that,  because  he  wrote  his  "  Jerusalem  Deliv- 
ered "  while  in  prison.  The  common  story  at  Ferrara  is, 
that  through  jealousy  on  the  part  of  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  or 
the  Duchess  Eleonora,  he  was  deprived  of  his  liberty,  though 
the  ostensible  motive  was  that  he  was  crazy. 

The  man  that  we  had  for  a  guide  round  the  city  was  also 
guide  to  Lord  Byron  when  he  was  here.  He  says  Lord  B. 
spent  three  hours  and  a  half  in  the  cell,  and  wrote  all  the 
time  he  was  there.  He  showed  us  where  he  carved  his 
name  in  quite  large  letters,  on  one  of  the  pillars  at  the  en- 
trance. 

The  ancient  Ducal  palace  is  a  large,  massy  looking  edi- 
fice, surrounded  by  a  wide  moat.  We  did  not  go  inside  of 
the  palace,  however,  but  came  back  to  our  hotel,  and  took 
dinner,  after  which  we  strolled  out  without  any  particular 
end  in  view.  We  came  to  the  Cathedral,  an  ancient  look- 
ing edifice  of  black  marble,  undoubtedly  white  in  its  day, 
which  has  long  since  passed  by.  The  vestibule  in  front 
is  supported  by  pillars,  which  rest  upon  the  shoulders  of  two 
fit,  hump-backed  men,  certainly  a  poor  design.  Within, 
near  the  door,  are  two  well-sculptured  marble  figures 
bearing  the  basins  of  holy  water.  The  church  is  rather 
so-so,  the  pillars  and  altars  being  painted  to  imitate  marble. 

It  really  makes  me  feel  melancholy  to  pass  through  the 
almost  deserted  streets  of  a  large  city  like  this,  and  reflect 


LETTERS.  173 

on  what  it  was  and  what  it  now  is.  How  is  she  fallen  from 
the  days  when  Ariosto  and  Tasso,  and  Guarini  kept  their 
literary  court  here,  when  the  ducal  power  was  wielded  with 
the  pomp  and  parade  that  now  attends  a  kingdom  !  Now 
her  great  men  have  passed  away,  and  her  government,  *'  the 
Papa  "  has  assumed  upon  himself  We  found  in  stalls  in 
some  of  the  streets,  many  rare  editions  of  old  writers,  but 
we  are  already  troubled  enough  with  baggage  without  wish- 
ing to  add  to  it.  I  bought  two  editions  of  Thomas  A.  Kem- 
pis,  one  published  in  the  sixteenth,  and  the  other  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  got  them  both  for  a  mere  trifle. 

I  have  to-day  had  a  recurrence  of  the  sickness  that  pros- 
trated me  at  Terracina,  so  that  I  have  not  had  my  usual 
strength  to  assist  me  in  going  about  here.  After  all,  I  may 
have  seen  about  all  there  is  to  be  seen.*  We  now  have  to 
start  so  early  in  the  mornings,  that  I  am  forced  to  retire  a 
little  earlier  than  I  have  been  accustomed  to ;  however  I 
seize  every  moment  I  get  at  our  stopping  places  during  the 
day,  to  write  in  my  journal,  so  that  I  may  have  the  early  part 
of  the  evening  to  devote  to  you.     Once  more,  adieu. 


At  a  little  town  a  few  miles  from  Venice. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

While  stopping  here  for  our  noon  rest,  I  improve  the  hour 
or  two  we  have  to  stay  in  writing  to  you,  as  there  is  nothing 
here  particularly  worthy  of  being  seen. 

We  left  Ferrara  yesterday  morning  about  six  o'clock.  For 
several  miles  there  were  still  the  same  level  country,  the 
same  rich  plains  of  hemp  and  wheat,  the  same  stagnant  pools, 
the  same  straight  road  shaded  with  trees.  Not  a  mountain, 
nor  even  a  hill  was  in  sight,  a  great  contrast  after  crossing 
the  Apennines,  where  "  hills  on  hills  arise." 

Between  eight  and  nine  o'clock,  we  crossed  the  Po  by  a 
15* 


174  *  LETTERS. 

pont  volant,  or   flying  bridge.     The   river  is  very  v*ide  here 
and  has  a  rapid  current. 

Two  scows  are  fastened  together  side  by  side,  and  then 
covered  by  a  floor  of  planks,  on  which  our  horses  and  car- 
riage were  placed.  Attached  to  this  is  a  long  line  of  little 
boats,  through  which  a  rope  is  passed  to  the  head  boat.  The 
force  of  the  current  swept  this  round,  so  that  without  any 
wheels  or  paddles,  or  apparently  any  effort  on  our  part,  we 
were  soon  over.  Then  we  entered  the  Austrian  possessions, 
and  so  our  passports  and  keys  were  once  more  called  for. 
The  trunks  however  were  but  lightly  looked  into,  and  the 
passports  were  pronounced  right.  As  the  officer  had  been 
so  polite  and  considerate  to  us,  I  thought  I  would  be  so  to 
him,  so  having  a  basket  of  fine  cherries  in  the  carriage,  I  got 
it  out  and  handed  it  to  him,  asking  him  in  French  if  he 
would  have  some  cherries.  Instead  of  taking  a  few,  the 
great  pig  took  not  only  all  the  cherries,  but  the  basket  too. 
This  Francesco  could  not  stand,  so  he  walked  up  to  the  offi- 
cer and  gently  asked  him  for  the  basket,  which,  with  many 
bows,  he  politely  relinquished,  taking  care  however  to  help 
himself  first  to  the  largest  of  the  cherries. 

We  are  now  using  a  still  different  kind  of  money  from  any 
we  have  yet  had.  A  small  piece,  something  less  than  a 
franc,  is  called  a  swantwitzer,  which  Mr.  D.  after  various 
useless  efforts  to  pronounce,  has  ended  by  calling  them 
"  agonies." 

For  some  time  our  road  lay  along  side  of  the  Po,  the  banks 
of  which  are  flat  and  rather  uninteresting.  We  saw  beggars 
entirely  deprived  of  their  legs,  lying  in  wheelbarrows  by  the 
side  of  the  road.  As  soon  as  they  saw  the  carriage,  they 
began  to  sing  in  their  loudest  tones,  to  attract  attention. 
One  man  moved  very  quickly  by  jumping  along  the  end  of 
his  body  and  resting  on  his  right  hand.  Is  it  not  a  shame 
for  government  to  allow  such  looking  objects  to  be  in  the 
public  roads?  It  is  said  that  many  parents  purposely  maim 
their  children  while  young,  that  they  may  be  greater  objects 


LETTERS.  175 

of  pity,  and  so  obtain  more  money  by  begging.  Can  ycu 
believe  that  human  nature  is  so  degraded  ? 

Yesterday  afternoon  we  crossed  the  Adige  by  another 
pont  volant.  All  along  in  this  river,  mills  are  moored.  Two 
large  boats  are  fastened  together  by  ropes,  but  sufficient 
space  is  left  between  for  the  wheel  of  the  mill,  the  mill  itself 
being  built  over  the  opening  between  the  two  boats.  The 
wheel  moves  by  the  action  of  the  current,  and  as  the  boats 
rise  and  fall  with  the  water,  the  wheel  is  at  all  times  in  a 
sufficient  depth  of  water. 

From  the  time  we  left  the  Adige  till  we  reached  Monselice, 
where  we  stopped  last  night,  the  road  was  perfectly  straight, 
and  bordered  by  trees,  and  the  country,  though  level,  was 
rich  with  the  ripened  grain.  The  reapers  were  in  the  fields, 
both  men  and  women,  and  here  we  saw  what  is  so  often  al- 
luded to  in  the  Scriptures,  the  gleaners  who  go  about  after 
the  grain  is  tied  up,  and  pick  up  the  scattered  ears. 

The  cattle  in  this  part  of  the  country  are  really  beautiful; 
they  are  large  and  strong,  and  of  a  clear,  milk-white  color. 
It  is  very  common  to  see  cows  yoked  together  and  drawing 
a  cart,  and  very  often  I  have  seen  a  cow,  a  horse  and  a  don- 
key, all  fastened  together. 

Before  reaching  Monselice,  we  came  in  sight  of  mountains, 
which  seemed  to  us  like  seeing  old  friends.  A  part  of  the 
town  is  situated  on  the  side  of  a  mountain. 

From  Monselice  here  the  country  was  still  pleasant. 
The  road  at  first  ran  along  by  a  canal  and  afterwards  by  the 
river  Brenta.  We  passed  some  beautiful  country  seats,  one 
belonging  to  the  Viceroy  of  Austria,  having  extensive 
grounds,  well  laid  out. 

But  I  hear  Francesco's  voice  that  the  horses  are  ready, 
and  I  must  finish  this  in  a  hurry ;  so  good  bye.     As  ever. 


176  LETTERS. 


Venice,  June  16. 
My  dearest  P.  : 

What  a  flood  of  recollections  come  thronging  to  my  mind 
as  I  record  this  date  —  it  is  my  mother's  birthday,  and 
though  far  away,  the  daughter  sends  her  greeting  over  land 
and  sea  to  the  loved  mother,  wishing  her  many  happy  re- 
turns of  this  day. 

Behold  us  now  in  "  the  city  of  a  hundred  isles."  Just 
twelve  weeks  from  the  day  we  left  our  home,  and  at  about 
the  same  hour  of  the  day,  we  arrived  here.  How  fast  the 
time  has  sped,  and  how  much  we  have  seen  ! 

Before  reaching  Mestra  we  passed  through  some  beautiful 
scenes.  The  banks  of  the  river  were  covered  with  charm- 
ing villas.  Almost  all  the  houses  were  adorned  with  sculp- 
ture, and  in  many  parts  of  the  grounds,  we  saw  statues  peep- 
ing out  from  among  the  trees. 

At  Mestra  we  left  the  carriage  and  took  a  boat  to  this 
city.  The  distance  was  seven  miles,  and  we  four  and  Fran- 
cesco and  all  our  baggage  were  brought  here  in  a  large  boat 
with  four  rowers  for  one  dollar  !  Soon  after  leaving  Mestra, 
the  canal  beoran  to  branch  off  here  and  there,  till  finally  we 
could  see  nothing  but  little  islands  surrounded  by  canals. 
How  strange  it  seemed  to  be  sailing  among  these  little 
islands !  But  when  we  were  actually  in  Venice,  and  in  the 
grand  canal,  it  seemed  stranger  still.  And  yet  I  was  dis- 
appointed, and  my  heart  sank  within  me  more  and  more,  as 
I  realized  how  great  was  my  disappointment.  How  many 
times  I  have  resolved  that  I  would  form  no  idea  of  a  place 
until  I  had  seen  it,  and  yet  who  could  help  imagining  how 
Venice  would  look  ?  True  I  pictured  out  canals,  but  then 
I  lined  them  with  palaces  and  fine  looking  buildings,  and 
laid  out  at  least  a  sidewalk  before  each  door.  The  palaces 
are  here  with  their  Gothic  arches  and  fretwork,  but  they 
look  decayed  and  neglected,  and  as  for  sidewalks,  there  are 
none,  the  water  washes  the  base  of  every  house.     When  we 


LETTERS.  177 

arrived  at  the  hotel  d'Europe,  and  rode,  I  mean  sailed  to  the 
very  door,  and  saw  not  a  foot  of  land  around  it,  vi^e  vi^ere 
well  convinced  that  Venice  was  not  the  place  it  was  "  crack- 
ed up  to  be."  This  hotel  is  situated  on  the  bay,  which 
makes  it  much  pleasanter,  than  being  on  one  of  the  canals. 
Our  windows  look  out  upon  the  water,  and  command  a  fine 
view  of  the  islands  near  and  far  off.  The  cries  of  the  gon- 
doliers, as  they  dart  by  in  their  little  boats,  reach  my  ears  ; 
this  with  the  slight  rippling  of  the  water  is  the  only 
sound  ;  all  else  is  still,  no  rumbling  of  carriage  wheels,  no 
stamping  of  horses,  no  cracking  of  whips,  break  in  upon 
the  quiet  of  the  scene.  It  is  as  though  the  world  was  all 
asleep.  How  many  times  since  I  have  sat  down  to  write, 
have  I  risen  and  gone  to  the  window  to  gaze  upon  the  novel 
scene.  How  gently  shine  the  stars,  and  how  beautifully 
they  are  reflected  in  the  still  waters  !  Yet  we  do  not  feel 
at  home  here.  Even  the  novelty  is  startling.  I  look  all 
around  and  see  no  walks,  and  I  say  "  What,  can't  we  even 
walk  out  a  step  1  Must  we  get  into  a  boat  every  time  we 
want  to  go  any  where  ?  "  The  gentlemen  are  all  complain- 
ing, "  Where  is  now  the  morning  walk  before  breakfast,  and 
the  evening  stroll  ?  Must  they  all  be  given  up  1 "  Murmurs 
grew  '*  loud  and  deep."  All  looked  blank  ;  all  declared  they 
were  glad  it  was  now  near  the  last  of  the  week,  as  we  are 
to  start  for  Geneva  on  Monday.  We  even  thought  of  re- 
calling Francesco  from  Mestra,  to  order  him  to  have  the 
carriage  ready  before  Monday. 

But  hark !  what  is  this  1  A  grand  discovery  has  been 
made.  One  of  our  discontented  spirits  in  roaming  about 
and  making  his  observations,  has  found  out  that  there  is  a 
lane,  a  bona  fide  land  lane  at  the  side  of  our  hotel,  and  that 
it  leads  to  the  ''Place  St.  Mark,"  the  central  part  of  the 
city.  How  each  face  has  brightened  up  !  How  glibly  runs 
every  tongue !  First  one  and  then  another  goes  down  to 
see  for  himself,  as  though  a  piece  of  land  was  never  seen 
before.     Feet  began  to  be  more  prized,  or  as  in  market 


178  LETTERS. 

terms,  **  feet  had  risen,"  and  were  looked  upon  with  some 
degree  of  complacency,  as  even  in  Venice  it  was  found 
they  would  be  serviceable,  and  each  one  eyed  his  nether 
extremities  with  a  degree  of  pleasure  seldom  before  expe- 
rienced. We  felt  as  though  we  were  indeed  independent, 
and  began  to  look  forward  with  pleasure  to  a  farther  ac- 
quaintance with  Venice,  once  the  fair  mistress  of  the  sea. 
Again  I  have  been  to  the  window,  and  looked  out.  The 
scene  is  the  same,  and  yet  it  looks  brighter  and  lovelier, 
and  I  begin  already  to  love  the  gentle  dashing  of  the  water 
affainst  our  hotel,  and  find  music  in  the  cries  of  the  crondo- 
liers.  I  will  not  yet  close  my  letter,  until  I  have  something 
more  substantial  to  tell  you  about  Venice. 

Thursday. 

We  have  been  busy  enough  to-day  I  can  assure  you,  in 
looking  around  this  strange  city.  We  have  engaged  a  car- 
riage, I  mean  a  gondola,  by  the  day  while  we  are  here, 
so  we  can  be  out  as  much  as  we  please,  and  at  no  more 
expense  than  though  we  were  out  but  a  few  hours  at  a  time. 
These  boats  are  small  and  have  an  awning  over  the  centre 
where  we  sit.  They  are  rowed  by  two  men,  who  every 
time  they  turn  a  corner  utter  a  peculiar  sound,  which  is  to 
give  warning  that  they  are  coming  from  such  a  side  of  the 
canal.  Each  boatman  is  compelled  to  give  this  sign,  other- 
wise if  any  accident  occurs  from  the  boats  thus  coming  in 
contact,  he  is  liable  to  be  fined,  as  the  cause  of  the  acci- 
dent. 

We  first  sailed  a  little  way  along  the  bay  and  reached  the 
Church  of  St.  George.  We  stepped  from  our  little  boat  at 
once  into  the  very  entrance  of  the  church ;  so  choice  are 
they  of  the  land  here  that  the  buildings  are  erected  on  the 
very  margin  of  the  little  islarfds;  nay  in  many  cases  they 
are  built  upon  piles  driven  into  the  mud  and  shallow  places. 
The  Church  of  St.  George  was  designed  by  Palladio,  a  cele- 
brated Italian  architect,  and  is  a  chaste  and  beautiful  edifice. 


LETTERS.  179 

The  ceiling  is  supported  by  square  pillars,  the  floor  is  paved 
with  red  and  white  marble,  and  is  very  neat.  There  are 
no  showy  ornaments,  no  redundancy  of  paintings  and  sculp- 
ture, but  every  thing  is  simple  yet  elegant.  The  seats  of 
the  priests,  arranged  in  a  semicircular  form  back  of  the  altar, 
are  of  oak  carved  in  the  richest  manner,  representing  scenes 
in  the  life  of  St.  Benedict. 

Once  more  in  our  light,  little  bark,  we  glided  over  the 
waters,  and  reached  the  "  Church  of  the  Redeemer"  be- 
longing to  the  Capuchin  monks.  It  was  also  designed  by 
Palladio,  and  is  a  very  fine  church.  It  is  without  any  side 
chapels  at  all.  The  high  altar  is  of  white  marble,  and  is 
beautifully  adorned  with  bas-reliefs  representing  Christ 
being  taken  from  the  cross.  It  is  the  most  perfect  thing  of 
the  kind  I  ever  saw.  The  head  of  the  crucified  one  falls 
upon  his  shoulders,  the  hands  drop  by  his  side,  and  the 
whole  appearance  is  of  one  in  the  cold  embrace  of  death. 
The  persons  engaged  in  taking  Him  down,  and  the  group 
at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  are  admirably  done. 

Behind  the  altar  in  a  small  chapel,  we  heard  chanting ; 
we  peeped  in  and  saw  several  Capuchins  kneeling,  and  ap- 
parently perfectly  absorbed  in  their  devotions.  We  went 
into  the  sacristy  by  a  narrow  passage,  along  which  were 
private  confessionals,  or  little  boxes  within  which  sits  a 
priest,  and  before  him  kneels  the  one  confessing  his  sins. 
In  the  sacristy  are  three  good  pictures  by  Ballini,  the  mas- 
ter of  Titian.  Here  in  ^^ax  are  the  heads  of  several  Capu- 
chins, who  have  been  sent  out  to  different  countries  as 
missionaries  ;  some  of  the  faces  are  very  fine.  While  we 
were  there,  a  priest  came  in,  who  had  been  officiating  in 
the  chapel.  As  he  took  off  the  different  parts  of  his  robe, 
he  devoutly  kissed  each  piece,  his  lips  moving  all  the  time, 
as  he  decently  laid  each  part  in  its  respective  place.  He 
did  not  seem  to  notice  us  at  all. 

We  then  came  back  across  the  bay,  and  entered  the 
grand  canal,  which  runs  through  the  city  in  the  form  of  the 


180  LETTERS. 

letter  S.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now  while  I  think  of  it, 
that  Venice  is  built  on  seventy-two  islands,  while  in  the  bay 
and  around  it  are  forty-two  more.  One  hundred  and  fifty 
different  canals  wind  round  among  these  islands,  spanned 
by  many  arched  bridges.  You  can  form  no  idea  how 
strange  it  seems  to  us  to  be  sailing  about  in  the  midst  of  a 
city,  where  we  see  no  streets,  but  canals  intersecting  each 
other  in  every  direction. 

We  visited  the  Ballini  collection  of  paintings.  It  belongs 
to  a  rich  merchant,  who,  when  he  hears  of  a  good  painting 
to  be  sold,  never  sleeps  till  he  has  added  it  to  his  collection. 
Here  were  some  really  beautiful  pictures ;  in  fact,  I  saw 
only  one  or  two  that  were  not  gems.  An  exquisite  head  by 
Coreggio,  two  or  three  landscapes  by  Caracci,  a  splendid 
Madonna  and  child  by  Sassoferato,  a  Virgin  by  the  same, 
one  of  Titian's  celebrated  Magdalens,  well  deserving  all  the 
praise  ever  bestowed  upon  it,  a  portrait  by  Giorgione,  the 
rival  of  Titian,  an  expressive  picture  by  one  of  the  finest 
painters.  Carlo  Dolci ;  these  are  a  few  among  the  gems  there 
collected. 

We  stopped  at  the  bridge  Rialto,  so  often  mentioned  by 
Shakspeare  in  his  *'  Merchant  of  Venice,"  where  we  left  our 
gondola  a  little  while.  Notwithstanding  that  in  sailing  along 
the  principal  canals,  there  is  no  appearance  of  walks  and 
passages,  yet  there  are  little  lanes  and  by-ways,  and  by  pass- 
ing through  these,  and  crossing  some  of  the  little  bridges, 
one  can  actually  walk  from  one  epd  of  Venice  to  the  other. 
The  Rialto  is  a  covered  bridge,  and  has  shops  on  either  side, 
so  that  it  seems  like  walking  through  a  street,  rather  than 
over  a  bridge. 

We  have  the  largest  number  at  our  dinner  table  that  we 
have  seen  at  any  hotel  in  Italy,  and  a  motley  set  it  is  too. 
At  the  head  of  the  table  sits  a  party  of  Russians,  and  such  an 
outlandish  jargon  as  they  speak,  I  never  before  heard.  It 
seems  as  though  they  have  to  work  out  with  their  jaws  each 
word  they  speak.     Then  come  we  Americans.     On  the  op- 


LETTERS.  181 

posite  side  are  an  English  and  a  Scotch  family ;  then  come 
French,  Italians,  Germans,  and  I  do  not  know  how  many 
other  nations  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table.  But  you  should 
look  in  upon  us  after  we  are  all  seated  and  engaged  in  con- 
versation. It  is  quite  enough  to  turn  one's  head  to  hear  the 
confusion  of  tongues.  The  waiters  speak  French,  so  that 
the  Russians,  English,  Scotch  and  Americans,  use  that  lan- 
guage as  a  medium  of  communication  with  them.  The  hotel 
here  is  an  excellent  one,  and  you  have  the  very  best  attend- 
ance. 

After  dinner  we  strolled  out,  I  should  say  sailed;  but  I 
really  have  been  so  long  on  land,  that  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  forget  land  terms  when  speaking  of  going  about.  We 
sailed  across  the  harbor  to  an  island,  on  which  is  an  Arme- 
nian convent,  where  Lord  Byron  studied  the  Armenian  lan- 
guage for  three  months.  His  tutor  still  lives  here,  a  fine 
looking  old  priest,  with  a  IcAg  white  beard,  and  bright  black 
eyes.  He  speaks  English  very  fluently,  and  was  very  polite 
to  us,  showing  us  round  the  convent,  where  we  found  every 
thing  in  the  nicest  and  neatest  order.  There  are  two  libra- 
ries; the  oriental,  in  which  are  only  manuscripts;  the 
other  consists  of  English,  Latin,  Greek  and  French  books. 
We  saw  the  printing  press,  at  which  twelve  boys  were  at 
work.  They  have  types  for  twenty-four  different  languages. 
In  fact,  we  bought  a  book  printed  in  as  many  different 
tongues.  There  are  one  hundred  and  fifty  monks  here,  and 
they  generally  have  quite  a  number  of  boys  under  their  tui- 
tion. It  is  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  years  since  this 
convent  was  first  established  upon  the  island.  The  priest 
seemed  very  proud  of  having  had  the  honor  of  being  tutor  to 
Lord  Byron.  He  showed  us  his  autograph,  and  said  he  had 
been  offered  large  sums  of  money  for  it,  but  that  nothing 
would  induce  him  to  part  with  it. 

As  we  came  home  the  sun  was  setting,  and  the  bells  were 
ringing,  (for  every  where  in  Italy  the  bells  ring  at  sunset,) 
and  the  sound  came  softly  and  gently  across  the  waters,  and 
16 


182  LETTERS. 

the  golden  beams  of  the  sun  still  played  over  the  fair  bay, 
dotted  with  its  numerous  islands,  as  though  all  unwilling  to 
leave  so  sweet  a  scene.  The  sunsets  here  are  beautiful,  yet 
I  think  I  have  seen  them  quite  as  beautiful  in  my  own  land ; 
but  in  this  city  every  thing  has  such  a  peculiar  charm  from 
its  novelty.  As  I  lay  back  this  evening  in  our  little  gondola, 
which  floated  so  gracefully  over  the  bay,  how  did  my  thoughts 
fiy  to  my  dear  home  far  across  the  waters,  while  the  soft 
twilight  came  on,  bringing  with  it  that  dreamy,  melancholy 
sensation,  so  appropriate  to  the  hour. 

Again  it  is  evening,  and  all  alone  in  my  room  I  have  sat 
and  looked  out  upon  the  star-lit  bay.  I  hear  but  the  gentle 
rippling  of  the  water,  and  occasionally  the  clear  tones  of  a 
gondolier.  I  can  hardly  realize  that  I  am  in  a  city  where 
are  congregated  one  hundred  thousand  people,  so  perfect  is 
the  stillness  that  here  reigns. 

But  what  a  long  letter  I  hare  written ;  so,  without  any 
compliments,  I  say  at  once,  good  night. 


VekicEj  Saturday  eve. 
Mv  DEAR  Friend  : 

Still  are  we  engaged  in  sight-seeing,  and  the  more  we  see 
of  Venice  the  better  we  like  it.  There  is  an  air  of  melan- 
choly grandeur  about  its  old  and  decaying  palaces.  There 
is  a  romance  in  gliding  through  its  little  canals,  and  under 
its  narrow  bridges,  and  in  speeding  over  its  placid  bay,  that 
appeal  strongly  to  our  feelings ;  and  notwithstanding  our  first 
sombre  impressions,  we  feel  now  that  we  would  not  on  any 
account,  have  missed  seeing  Venice. 

Yesterday  morning  we  went  to  the  Palace  of  the  Doges. 
Here,  in  the  palmy  days  of  the  Venetian  republic,  they  held 
their  almost  regal  court,  and  the  "  Doge  of  Venice  "  was 
looked  upon  as  the  head  of  the  state,  the  head  of  the  church. 


LETTERS.  183 

the  master  mind  that  moved  all  things  !  How  different  now  is 
every  thing  !  Venice  lives  but  in  name ;  her  government  is 
taken  from  her  own  shoulders  ;  her  wealth,  her  trade  have 
departed  ;  nought  is  left  but  the  monuments  of  her  past  great- 
ness. Who  does  not  sigh  over  Venice,  that  once  sat  in  queen- 
ly majesty  as  mistress  of  the  sea,  now  left  to  desolation  and 
decay  ? 

The  Palace  of  the  Doges  fronts  the  bay,  and  presents  a 
fine  appearance.  Its  architecture  is  very  singular,  or  at  least 
it  seems  singular  to  us,  who  have  seen  so  little  of  this  mix- 
ture of  Moorish  and  Gothic  styles,  and  yet  1  like  it  much  ; 
and  often  as  I  glide  by  in  our  little  gondola,  I  turn  again 
and  again  to  look  upon  it,  that  its  every  feature  may  be 
deeply  impressed  upon  my  memory.  The  lower  story  rests 
upon  arches ;  just  above  is  light  open  fretwork,  and  many 
small  pillars;  and  still  higher  up,  the  exterior  is  plain,  with 
three  large  Gothic  windows,  having  circular  panes  of  glass, 
so  that  the  most  fragile  part  of  the  building  is  below,  while 
the  heaviest  part  is  above,  and  seems  far  too  massy  and  solid 
to  rest  upon  so  apparently  slight  a  foundation.  The  whole  is 
of  marble,  originally  white,  but  now  so  discolored  by  time  and 
the  dampness  arising  from  the  water,  as  to  look  quite  black. 

In  the  court  are  two  large  wells,  the  curbs  of  which  are 
of  bronze,  well  sculptured.  There  are  openings  in  the 
ground  into  which  rain  water  is  carried  by  means  of  pipes ; 
it  then  passes  through  sand  before  reaching  the  well,  and  thus 
becomes  filtered.  From  these  wells  all  the  water  used  in 
Venice  is  taken,  and  we  saw  many  women  with  their  kettles 
and  pails,  drawing  water  to  take  to  their  homes. 

From  the  court  a  wide  staircase  leads  to  the  upper  story. 
This  is  called  the  grand  staircase,  at  the  top  of  which  the 
Doges  were  crowned  in  the  sight  of  all  the  people  assembled 
in  the  court  below,  and  it  was  near  this  spot  that  one  of  their 
number  was  beheaded,  because  it  was  thought  that  he  was 
engaged  in  a  conspiracy  against  the  State.  At  the  head  of 
the  staircase  commences  the  gallery,  the  walls  of  which  are 


184  LETTERS. 

covered  with  pictures,  by  artists  of  the  Venetian  school,  the 
principal  of  which  are  Titian,  Tintoretto,  Paul  Veronese  and 
Bassano.  The  most  of  these  paintings  represent  different 
scenes  in  the  history  of  Venice.  One  of  these,  by  Titian,  is 
the  largest  picture  I  ever  saw;  it  covers  the  whole  of  the 
wall  at  one  end  of  the  gallery.  The  ceiling,  too,  is  covered 
with  pictures,  each  one  encased  in  a  massive  gilt  frame. 
Occasionally  there  is  a  bare  spot  on  the  walls,  and  the  guide 
will  point  to  it,  and  tell  you  in  a  saddened  tone,  that  a  fine 
picture  was  there  once,  but  that  it  was  carried  away  by  Na- 
poleon, and  had  never  been  restored.  Ah,  that  Napoleon  ! 
He  despoiled  many  cities,  to  add  to  the  beauty  of  his  own 
charming  Paris. 

In  the  third  story  are  rooms,  rendered  more  or  less  inter- 
esting to  us  by  their  associations.  In  one  the  Doges  received 
the  ambassadors  from  foreign  powers;  in  another  sat  the 
Senate;  in  a  third  the  "Council  of  Ten"  met;  and  still 
another  was  used  for  the  horrid  purposes  of  that  wdcked  In- 
quisition. In  the  ante-room  to  this  last,  w^as  an  opening  in 
the  wall,  into  which  accusations  against  individuals  were 
put.  In  the  inside  it  was  covered  by  a  little  door,  having 
two  locks ;  one  key  was  in  the  possession  of  one  member  of 
the  Inquisition,  and  the  other  of  another,  so  that  it  could  not 
be  opened,  nor  any  accusation  read,  save  by  the  two.  This 
was  doubtless  to  give  the  appearance  of  impartiality  to  the 
proceeding.  The  floor  of  this  room  is  of  black  and  white 
marble,  and  the  ceiling  is  painted,  and  remains  as  in  former 
days.  One  picture  represents  "  Virtue  driving  away  Vice," 
appropriate  surely  for  the  place  where  virtue,  of  all  things  in 
the  world,  was  the  least  practised.  The  walls  have  now  a 
new  finish ;  they  were  formerly  hung  with  black,  fit  emblem 
for  a  room  where  deeds  of  the  foulest  blackness  were  sanc- 
tioned. From  this  room  there  was  a  secret  passage  leading 
to  "  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,"  which  connects  the  prison  with 
the  palace,  separated  by  a  narrow  canal.  By  this  way  pris- 
oners were  brought  to  the  Inquisition,  tried  and  condemned, 


LETTERS.  185 

and  by  another  secret  passage  led  to  the  dungeons  below, 
and  never  heard  of  more. 

We  went  down  into  those  dungeons,  and  even  now  my 
spirit  shudders  at  the  tales  of  horror  and  blood  there  told, 
and  I  cannot  help  occasionally  glancing  around  my  own 
comfortable  room,  to  dispel  the  illusion  that  I  am  not  now  in 
those  damp  and  dreary  cells.  These  dungeons  are  not,  how- 
ever, under  ground,  or  more  properly  speaking,  below  the 
level  of  the  water.  The  upper  range  has  windows  opening 
into  the  passages  around  the  cells,  but  no  light  from  without 
is  admitted.  Dreary  and  dark  they  were,  and  chilling  to  the 
spirit. 

Beneath  these  is  still  another  story  ;  the  cells  are  small, 
floored  with  stone,  having  a  little  wooden  platform  for  a  bed. 
All  the  light  that  found  its  way  here  was  from  a  candle  kept 
burning  in  the  passage  leading  to  the  cells. 

At  the  end  of  one  of  these  passages,  was  a  room  where 
prisoners  were  strangled  to  death.  A  cord  was  put  round  the 
neck  of  the  condemned  one,  passed  through  the  door,  and 
fastened  on  the  outside  to  a  small  wheel,  which,  when  turn- 
ed, drew  the  cord  tighter  and  still  tighter,  till  life  was  extinct. 
In  one  part  of  the  room  there  was  a  hole  in  the  floor  to  carry 
off  the  blood  of  those  there  killed,  and  out  of  the  room  was  a 
secret  door  leading  to  the  canal,  through  which  the  bodies  of 
the  dead  were  carried  at  night,  and  thrown  into  the  water. 
What  awful  scenes  were  there  enacted!  And  yet  to  the 
credit  of  the  Venetians,  be  it  said,  that  they  knew  nothing  of 
these  things.  It  was  not  till  the  French  took  possession  of 
this  city,  that  these  dungeons  and  bloody  appurtenances 
were  brought  to  light.  Had  it  been  known,  may  we  not 
hope,  for  the  credit  of  human  nature,  that  the  common  peo- 
ple would  have  risen  up  with  the  power  of  a  giant,  and  burst 
the  shackles  imposed  upon  them  by  their  superiors,  and  put 
an  end  to  this  reign  of  terror  1  In  one  of  the  dungeons  a 
man  was  found  imprisoned,  who  had  been  there  fourteen 
years,  for  murdering  his  brother  who  was  a  priest.  He  shot 
16* 


186  LETTERS. 

him  while  performing  mass  at  the  altar  of  a  church.  Soon 
after  he  was  set  at  liberty  he  became  totally  blind,  from  the 
eiTects  of  the  light  upon  eyes  so  long  accustomed  to  dark- 
ness. 

On  the  walls  of  these  cells  were  many  sentences  engraved 
by  the  prisoners.  Two  or  three  of  them,  as  translated  by 
our  "  valet  de  place,"  I  give  to  you.  "  Do  not  trust  to  any 
body  ;  think,  and  hold  your  tongue,  if  you  want  to  escape 
from  spies  insidious."  "  To  complain,  to  repent,  is  of  no 
use,  but  give  always  a  proof  of  your  valor."  "  To  whom  I 
trust,  God,  He  will  take  care  of  me ;  to  whom  I  do  not 
trust,  I  take  care  of  myself."  "  Little  .speaking  and  prompt- 
ly denying,  and  think  to  the  end,  cannot  spare  the  life  to  us, 
poor  unhappy  creatures."  I  put  these  down  as  given  in 
Moses'  imperfect  English,  but  they  are  an  exact  translation 
of  the  original. 

We  then  "  stood  upon  the  Bridge  of  Sighs."  Well  has  it 
been  thus  named,  for  here  the  poor  unfortunates  passed  from 
their  prisons  to  the  Inquisition,  from  whose  fangs  they  well 
knew  there  was  no  escape.  Many  were  the  "  sighs"  here 
heaved,  as  the  past  rose  up  before  them,  and  the  dread  future 
that  awaited  them.  It  is  a  narrow,  covered  bridge  ;  all  the 
light  comes  from  two  strongly  grated  windows.  This  pas- 
sage is  now  closed  up,  and  it  is  only  by  special  permission, 
and  an  extra  fee,  that  one  can  gain  admission  to  it. 

Our  next  course  was  to  the  Palace  Barberigo,  where 
Titian  died.  This  palace  is  embellished  by  some  fine  pic- 
tures, many  of  which  were  by  Titian.  Here  is  another  of 
his  Magdalens;  she  is  on  her  knees,  her  hands  clasped,  and 
her  eyes,  swollen  with  weeping,  are  raised  to  Heaven.  Her 
dress  is  disordered,  and  her  hair  falls  in  negligence  over  her 
breast.  The  whole  bears  the  appearance  of  bitter  penitence, 
and  soul-harrowing  remorse.  It  is  a  magnificent  work  of 
art.  It  was  a  natural  step  for  us  from  the  place  where  this 
great  artist  died  to  that  where  he  lies  buried,  which  is  in 
the  church  of  the  Franciscans.     A  plain   slab  on  the  floor 


LETTERS.  187 

records  the  fact.  The  inscription  translated  into  Eno-lish, 
is,  "  Here  lies  the  great  Titian,  the  rival  of  Zeuxis  and 
Apelles."  Canova  designed  a  monument  for  Titian's  burial- 
place,  but  there  not  being  funds  sufficient  raised  for  its 
erection,  after  his  own  death,  that  design  was  carried  into 
execution  by  his  pupils,  and  now  adorns  his  own  tomb. 
The  monument  is  of  white  marble,  in  a  pyramidal  form. 
At  the  entrance  to  the  pyramid,  stands  a  figure  representinor 
Europe,  holding  a  torch  in  her  hand.  This  refers  to  the 
fact  that  different  countries  in  Europe  gave  money  toward 
the  erection  of  the  monument.  Opposite  to  her  is  a  winged 
lion,  representing  Venice,  that  being  her  coat  of  arms. 
Back  of  the  lion  on  the  steps,  sits  another  figure  intended 
for  the  genius  of  Canova.  This  is  splendidly  sculptured,  the 
drapery  hanging  down  over  the  steps,  on  which  lie  a  wreath 
of  laurel,  and  the  different  tools  used  in  sculpture,  all  cut 
from  one  piece  of  marble.  Behind  Europe  stand  two  figures 
linked  arm  in  arm,  bearing  a  wreath  of  flowers  to  deck  the 
artist's  tomb,  while  back  of  these  are  still  other  figures, 
each  bearing  a  torch  in  its  hand.  These  last  are  in  the 
act  of  ascending  the  steps,  and  the  attitude,  one  foot  being 
raised  on  the  step  above,  is  full  of  grace.  The  whole  is 
admirably  done,  and  the  monument  is  greatly  admired,  but 
in  my  humble  opinion,  (worth  nothing,  to  be  sure  to  any  one 
but  myself,)  there  are  too  many  figures. 

Near  this  church  is  a  hall  called  "  the  School  of  St.  Roc- 
co,"  where  Tintoretto  painted  thirty  years.  Here  are  many 
of  his  pictures,  but  they  are  so  dark,  and  many  of  them  so 
high  up  on  the  walls,  and  the  light  in  the  room  is  so  poor, 
that  they  are  not  seen  to  good  advantage.  Tintoretto  is 
inferior  in  coloring  and  in  graphic  expression  to  Titian. 
Perhaps  both  of  them  painted  too  many  pictures  to  become 
perfect  finishers. 

In  the  afternoon  our  little  bark  once  more  flew  across  the 
bay,  and  we  landed  on  the  island  where  are  the  glass  manu- 
factories.    Nearly  all  the  people  on  this  island,  and  I  think 


188  LETTERS. 

there  are  about  three  thousand  inhabitants,  are  in  sonrie  way 
connected  with  these  manufactories.  Of  the  ordinary  glass 
works  I  shall  say  nrthing,  because  you  can  now  see  them 
in  almost  every  city  at  home  ;  but  we  were  much  interested 
in  seeing  all  the  operations  connected  with  the  manufacture 
of  beads,  and  as  this  may  be  as  novel  to  you  as  it  was  to  us, 
I  shall  venture  to  give  you  the  details.  We  first  saw  them 
blowing  the  glass.  It  was  blown  out  the  size  of  a  tumbler, 
with  a  hole  running  through  the  middle  of  it,  and  while  I 
was  thinking  what  amazing  large  beads  that  would  make, 
two  workmen  suddenly  caught  the  ends  of  it  with  tongs  and 
ran  with  it,  one  one  way,  and  the  other  another,  till  it  was 
two  or  three  hundred  feet  long,  and  as  small  round  as  a 
little  wire.  By  breaking  off  a  piece  from  the  middle,  we 
saw  that  the  hole  ran  through  the  entire  length.  This  wa 
the  first  stage.  In  another  room  these  glass  wires  were  as 
sorted ;  they  are  of  different  sizes,  but  by  just  passing  them 
through  the  hand,  it  can  be  told  in  a  moment  by  those  ac 
customed  to  the  work,  what  size  they  are,  and  they  are 
arranged  accordingly.  This  part  is  done  chiefly  by  women. 
Then  comes  the  cutting  them  up  into  beads,  A  man  takes 
a  dozen  or  so  of  these  long  pieces  in  his  hand,  lays  them 
on  a  sort  of  machine  with  a  sharp  edge,  and  cuts  them  with 
a  chisel,  a  little  bag  being  fastened  to  the  machine  to  catch 
them  as  they  fall.  Behold  the  second  stage.  Afterwards 
they  are  put  into  a  sieve,  when  the  broken  ones  and  small 
pieces  fall  through,  the  perfect  ones  remaining  in  the  sieve. 
But  the  ends  of  the  bead  are  round,  and  see,  these  are ' 
square  ;  how  is  this  remedied  1  We  go  into  another  room, 
and  see  how  this  difficulty  is  solved.  Over  a  furnace  is  an 
iron  kettle,  in  which  is  a  mixture  of  lime  and  sand,  into 
which  the  beads  are  put,  and  gently  shaken  round  and 
round  ;  the  heat  and  the  friction  wear  off  the  square  edges, 
and  after  another  sifting  they  come  out  perfect  in  shape. 
Then  they  are  put  in  dry  sand  into  a  bag  and  well  shaken, 
and  thus  they  are  polished  and  the  holes  cleared  from  sand. 


LETTERS.  189 

Finally  they  are  put  on  a  sloping  piece  of  wood  and  gently 
shaken,  so  that  those  that  are  round  slip  off,  while  those 
that  are  not,  and  consequently  imperfect,  remain,  and  thus 
is  the  bead  finished.  The  process  of  coloring  we  were  not 
allowed  to  see,  as  it  is  a  secret,  and  I  suppose  they  were 
afraid  we  might  steal  their  trade.  We  were  exceedingly 
interested  in  all  that  we  saw,  and  the  work-people  allowed 
us  to  look  at  and  to  handle  the  beads  as  much  as  we  chose. 
Nay  they  gave  us  several  long  pieces  of  different  colors  and 
sizes. 

This  is  one  of  the  largest  bead  manufactories  in  the  world; 
and  while  other  trades  have  been  taken  from  Venice  to  dif- 
ferent countries,  this  has  remained,  as  exclusively  her  own. 
It  belongs  to  one  individual,  who  employs  in  the  establish- 
ment about  two  hundred  workmen.  The  women  and  the 
children  in  the  town  string  the  beads,  and  make  them  into 
aprons,  purses,  necklaces,  bags,  shawls,  and  such  ornaments. 
Then  men  are  employed  in  packing  them  and  sending  them 
off,  so  that,  as  I  said  before,  nearly  all  the  inhabitants  are 
supported  by  this  manufactory. 

Last  evening  we  took  a  walk ;  yes,  a  real  walk,  and  not  a 
sail,  for  there  is  a  passage  back  of  our  hotel,  leading  to  the 
"  Place  St.  Mark,"  the  principal  promenade  in  the  city. 
Still  it  seems  queer  to  us,  even  when  walking  ourselves,  not 
to  see  any  horses  and  carriages.  There  is  not  a  horse  in  the 
city  of  Venice.  I  believe  a  few  of  the  upper  class  own 
horses,  but  they  are  kept  in  the  suburbs,  or  on  some  of  the 
large  islands,  and  so  when  wanted  for  use,  the  owners  go 
there  and  ride. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  Place  St.  Mark,  or  as  it  is  called 
here,  ''Piazza,"  stands  the  Church  of  St.  Mark,  an  ancient 
and  magnificent  church,  built  in  a  mixture  of  the  Gothic, 
Grecian  and  Saracenic  styles.  The  front  rises  up  in  five 
separate  arches,  each  arch  having  an  entrance  into  the 
church,  and  crowned  with  a  light  tapering  spire.  Besides 
all  these  spires,  there  are  four  large  domes.    Over  the  middle 


190  LETTERS. 

arch  are  four  horses,  which,  aUhough  of  brass,  have  been  great 
travellers.  They  journeyed  in  the  first  place,  from  Corinth 
to  Rome,  where  they  remained  till  the  seat  of  government 
was  removed  to  Constantinople,  and  then  they  went  thither. 
But  when  Constantinople  was  taken  by  the  Venetians,  the 
horses  were  led  to  Venice  as  trophies  of  war.  No  sooner 
had  the  French  conquered  Venice,  however,  than  the  famous 
horses  were  once  more  on  the  move,  and  this  time  they  went 
to  Paris.  They  sojourned  there  but  a  little  time,  for  after 
Napoleon's  short  reign  was  over,  they  were  restored  with 
many  other  works  of  art  that  had  been  plundered.  So  much 
for  the  horses.  Is  it  wonderful  that  the  Venetians  think  so 
much  of  them,  when  we  consider  not  only  their  history,  but 
also  the  fact,  that  they  serve  to  give  an  idea  to  that  class  of 
people  who  never  leave  their  island  home,  of  how  real  horses 
look? 

In  front  of  the  church  are  planted  three  flag-staffs,  borne 
away  as  tokens  of  victory,  from  Cyprus,  Candia  and  Morea. 
Near  them  is  the  Campanile,  in  which  are  the  bells  of  the 
church.  It  is  built  of  Grecian  marble,  and  is  square,  running 
up,  however,  into  a  pretty  spire.  On  either  side  of  the 
"piazza"  is  a  large  palace,  the  lower  story  forming  a  colon- 
nade. Here  are  the  finest  shops  and  cafes  in  Venice,  and  at 
night,  when  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  the  whole  piazza  is 
crowded  with  belles  and  beaux,  and  other  living  creatures, 
not  included  in  these  two  classes,  quite  a  lively  picture  is 
presented.  Here  we  take  our  evening  stroll,  and  here  we 
have  been  regaled  with  some  of  the  finest  music  from  the 
military  band  I  ever  heard. 

This  morning  we  went  over  to  the  Arsenal,  which  occu- 
pies an  island  nearly  three  miles  in  circumference.  The 
principal  entrance  is  guarded  by  the  winged  lion  of  Venice, 
two  lions  in  white  marble,  taken  from  Athens,  and  two 
lionesses  brought  from  Corinth.  Two  large  halls  are  filled 
with  ancient  armor  and  weapons  of  warfare,  the  most  of 
which  have  some  interesting  historical  associations.     There 


LETTERS.  191 

was  the  armor  of  the  three  knights  who  bore  away  the  flag- 
staffs  now  in  the  Piazza  St,  Mark ;  likewise  the  armor  of 
Henry  IV.  of  France,  and  of  a  knight  on  horseback  ;  and  as 
for  helmets,  shields,  breastplates,  swords,  guns,  pistols,  cross- 
bows, and  poisoned  arrows,  it  seemed  to  me  there  was  no 
end  to  them.  A  great  curiosity  to  us  was  the  long,  two- 
handed  swords ;  they  seemed  too  heavy  to  be  wielded  with 
much  dexterity.  Then  there  were  machines  for  throwing 
bombs  into  a  city  or  besieged  place,  and  in  fact,  every  kind 
of  weapon  and  machine  ever  used  in  war.  There  were  a 
shield  and  breastplate  of  gold,  ornamented  with  figures  of 
silver  in  bas-reliefs,  which  once  belonged  to  Dandala,  a  cele- 
brated Venetian  General.  A  large  Turkish  flag  hung  in  one 
part  of  the  hall.  It  was  taken  at  the  battle  of  Lepanto,  and 
has  in  the  centre  the  motto,  "  There  is  but  one  God,  and 
Mahomet  is  his  servant." 

But  most  of  all  were  we  interested,  and  yet  it  was  a  melan- 
choly interest,  in  some  instruments  of  torture  taken  from  the 
Inquisition.  One  was  a  species  of  armor,  which  was  placed 
upon  the  person  questioned,  and  if  he  did  not  answer  the 
questions  put  to  him,  he  was  pricked  with  sharp  iron  needles 
through  openings  in  the  head  and  back  of  .this  coat  of  mail. 
There  were  also  a  collar  for  the  neck,  which  could  be  pressed 
together,  till  the  individual  wearing  it  was  strangled  to  death, 
and  a  thumb-screw,  in  which  two  or  three  fingers  were 
screwed  up  till  they  were  broken.  No  marvel  that  many 
confessed  themselves  guilty  of  crimes  they  never  committed, 
rather  than  to  bear  such  torture  as  was  often  inflicted  upon 
them. 

In  a  glass  case  were  other  instruments  like  these,  which 
formerly  belonged  to  Francis  of  Carrara,  Lord  of  Padua,  at 
least  that  is  the  name  as  I  understand  it  from  our  guide. 
There  was  a  little  key,  which  had  a  poisoned  needle  within 
it.  This  he  always  carried  about  with  him,  and  if  any  one 
said  any  thing  to  him,  or  even  looked  at  him  in  a  way  he  liked 
not,  he  would  touch  the  spring  in  the  key,  and  so  send  the 


192  LETTERS. 

needle  into  the  offender's  flesh,  which  soon  produced  death. 
I  think  I  should  have  kept  at  a  goodly  distance  from  such  a 
touch-me-not  as  he  was.  Then  there  was  a  box  of  jewels, 
the  history  of  which  is  as  follows.  Cruel  as  he  was,  it  seems 
he  was  susceptible  of  the  tender  passion,  for  he  fell  in  love 
with  a  noble  lady,  who,  however,  would  not  receive  his  ad- 
dresses. He  sent  this  box  to  soften  the  fair  damsel's  heart, 
but  one  of  her  attendants  had  the  curiosity  to  open  it  before 
giving  it  to  her  mistress.  No  sooner  had  she  raised  the  lid, 
than  four  little  pistols,  concealed  within,  went  off,  causing 
her  death.  Well  was  it  for  the  mistress,  that  the  maid  was 
imbued  with  a  goodly  portion  of  the  curiosity  of  our  mother 
Eve. 

On  the  same  island  is  the  navy-yard.  Here  in  the  proud- 
est days  of  Venice,  seven  thousand  men  were  employed  at 
one  time ;  now  alas !  for  the  change,  there  are  but  four  hun- 
dred. Two  or  three  frigates  and  a  few  small  boats  are  now 
being  built.  In  one  room  were  models  of  different  ships 
and  different  parts  of  ships.  There  was  the  ship  that  was 
victorious  in  the  battle  of  Lepanto.  It  has  three  masts  and 
latine  sails,  and  fifty-two  oars,  there  having  been  five  men 
stationed  at  each  joar.  There  was  the  model  of  the  Bucen- 
taur,  the  barge  from  which  the  Doge  used  to  perform  the 
ancient  ceremony  of  wedding  Venice  to  the  sea.  The  ex- 
terior was  gilded,  the  deck  was  paved  with  mosaics,  the 
awning  was  of  crimson  velvet,  and  the  oars  too  were  gilded. 
There  were  forty-six  oars,  and  five  men  at  each  oar.  Under 
a  canopy  of  velvet,  on  a  chair  covered  with  the  same,  sat 
the  Doge,  and  through  a  little  window  in  the  back  of  his 
chair,  he  threw  the  ring  into  the  Adriatic,  and  thus  made 
Venice  the  bride  of  the  sea.  Parts  of  the  former  Bucen- 
taur  are  preserved  as  relics  of  the  past. 

In  one  part  of  this  room,  a  monument  has  been  erected 
to  the  memory  of  Angelo  Erao,  the  last  of  the  Venetian 
admirals.  It  is  a  pillar  of  marble,  surmounted  by  a  bust  of 
the  hero.     An  angel  is  hovering  over  him  holding  a  crown 


LETTERS.  193 

in  his  hand,  as  if  about  to  place  it  on  his  head.  Another  is 
kneeling  before  the  pillar  with  a  pen  in  his  hand,  with 
which  he  is  writing  him  "  the  immortal."  Behind  this 
angel  is  a  small  raft  carved  in  marble.  I  asked  what  that 
meant ;  for  I  did  not  know  but  that  it  was  intended  to  signify 
the  way  by  which  he  was  carried  to  heaven,  but  I  found 
it  alluded  to  a  scene  in  his  life.  While  engaged  in  a  war- 
like expedition,  he  was  wrecked.  From  the  masts  and 
planks  of  his  shattered  vessel  he  built  a  raft,  and  on  this 
raft  went  before  Tunis,  besieged  it  and  took  it.  This  monu- 
ment was  by  Canova.  In  other  parts  of  this  room  were 
four  large  pieces  of  carved  wood,  depicting  quite  fully  the 
history  of  the  raft. 

As  we  walked  round  these  places,  we  met  galley-slaves 
in  chains,  engaged  in  work.  Some  of  them  brought  us 
little  articles  made  of  beads,  on  which  they  are  permitted  to 
work  in  their  leisure  hours.  The  money  they  get  for  them, 
is  given  into  the  keeper's  hands,  who  allows  them  in  return 
some  little  luxury,  such  as  food  of  a  quality  superior  to  what 
they  generally  have,  and  sometimes  a  little  wine  to  gladden 
their  sad  hours.  The  clanking  of  their  chains  sounded 
dolefully  in  my  ears,  and  I  could  not  refrain  from  buying 
some  of  their  toys,  that  I  might  lighten  a  little  the  dreari- 
ness of  their  imprisonment. 

Again  to  our  little  bark.  We  stopped  at  the  Church  of 
St.  John  and  St.  Paul,  on  the  outside  of  which  are  the  sar- 
cophagi of  the  four  Doges  who  died  an  unnatural  death. 
In  the  interior  twenty-two  are  butied.  Some  of  the  monu- 
ments are  very  rich  ;  on  one  I  counted  twenty-five  figures, 
nearly  all  of  them  as  "  large  as  life."  In  one  of  the  chapels 
is  some  of  the  most  beautiful  sculpture  I  ever  saw.  I  was 
completely  fascinated  by  it.  It  is  a  series  of  marble  slabs, 
covering  the  lower  part  of  the  walls,  each  slab  being  some 
scene  in  the  life  of  Christ.  The  figures  stand  out  in  bold 
relief.  I  can  mention  but  one  or  two  of  the  scenes,  just  to 
give  you  an  idea  of  the  whole.  One  is  the  birth  of  "  the 
17 


194  LETTERS. 

holy  child,"  and  the  shepherds  are  seen  following  the  star 
that  would  lead  them  to  the  Messiah.  The  thatched  roof 
of  the  house  where  Mary  and  the  infant  Jesus  were,  is  ad- 
mirably done.  Then  there  are  the  wise  men  presenting 
their  gifts  ;  one  king  is  kneeling  before  the  infant  Saviour, 
while  just  behind  him  is  another  bearing  a  vessel  of  spices, 
and  he  is  followed  by  a  servant  holding  his  train.  Behind 
Mary,  who  holds  the  child,  is  a  group  apparently  of  lookers- 
on,  and  they  are  so  perfectly  executed  as  to  awaken  our 
unqualified  admiration.  One  is  looking  from  behind  a  tree, 
and  one,  an  old  man,  is  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  another. 
I  do  not  know  when  I  have  been  so  "  carried  away  "  with  any 
thing  as  I  have  with  this  beautiful  specimen  of  art.  I  ac- 
tually sat  down  before  each  scene,  and  would  have  been 
content  to  have  staid  there  the  rest  of  the  day,  had  I  not 
been  repeatedly  warned  that  it  was  time  to  leave. 

We  visited  the  Church  of  the  Jesuits,  the  interior  of  which 
is  finished  in  a  very  neat  and  beautiful  style.  In  fact  the 
greater  part  of  the  churches  in  Venice  are  perfect  models 
of  elegant  simplicity.  In  this  church  the  upper  part  of  the 
walls  are  covered  with  verd-antique  and  white  marble,  so 
arranged  as  to  resemble  curtains.  It  is  really  beautiful. 
The  pulpit  is  decorated  in  the  same  manner.  The  pillars 
near  the  high  altar  are  of  verd-antique  twisted. 

We  stopped  at  the  Piazza  St.  Mark,  and  sent  home  our 
o-cndola.  We  went  into  one  of  the  cafes  and  got  a  lunch, 
improving  the  time  while  we  were  resting  and  eating,  in 
reading  the  newspapers.  •  Galignani's  paper  is  taken  at 
almost  all  these  cafes.  It  is  printed  in  Paris,  but  in  English, 
and  generally  has  a  short  sprinkling  of  American  news 
in  it. 

We  then  gave  a  few  hours  to  "  old  St.  Mark's."  I  have 
before  spoken  of  the  exterior  of  this  church,  let  us  now  go 
within.  It  is  an  ancient  church,  having  been  begun  about 
977,  and  finished  in  the  year  1071.  Although  built  on  three 
hundred  solid  piles,  the  floor   has  settled  so  much  that  its 


LETTERS.  195 

unevenaess  resembles  the  waves  of  the  sea.  It  is  really 
unpleasant  walking  upon  it,  for  if  one  is  engaged  looking 
about  as  he  walks  along,  he  sometimes  finds  one  foot  some 
ways  below  the  other,  or  he  is  suddenly  "  brought  up  all 
standing,"  with  quite  a  hill  before  him. 

The  high  altar,  under  which  repose  the  relics  of  St.  Mark, 
is  adorned  with  four  pillars  of  white  marble,  brought  from 
the  temple  of  St.  Sophia,  at  Constantinople.  Another  altar 
is  surrounded  by  eight  pillars,  brought  from  Solomon's  Tem- 
ple, (so  said),  two  of  which  are  of  oriental  alabaster,  and 
are  so  transparent,  that  a  light  placed  behind  them  really 
illuminates  them.  Two  others  are  of  African  alabaster, 
and  the  other  four  are  of  verd-antique. 

In  a  little  room,  called  the  treasury,  is  an  altar-piece  of 
gold  and  precious  stones,  the  richest  thing  of  the  kind  I 
ever  saw.  It  is  ten  feet  long  and  eight  feet  high,  and  is 
placed  front  of  the  high  altar  on  great  festivals.  It  has 
already  cost  five  million  dollars!  It  is  of  pure,  solid  gold, 
and  not  a  common  stone  appears  on  its  surface,  nothing  but 
what  is  costly  and  rare.  It  was  greatly  despoiled  by  Napo- 
leon, who  carried  away  many  of  the  most  precious  stones  ; 
some  he  rejected  as  not  worthy  of  notice,  so  that  we  were 
told,  that  after  his  departure,  stones  worth  twelve  thousand 
dollars  were  found  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  There  were 
also  many  other  rich  things  in  the  treasury,  among  which 
were  some  splendid  candelabras  of  silver  gilt,  and  a  sceptre  of 
gold  set  with  precious  stones,  belonging  to  the  Emperor  of 
Austria.  We  entered  the  treasury,  and  looked  at  these 
things  at  our  leisure  ;  we  were  obliged,  however,  to  pay  an 
extra  fee  for  it.  Others  less  favored  than  we,  stood  at  the 
grated  window  of  the  room,  looking  with  longing,  eager 
eyes,  upon  the  "  gewgaws  "  there  displayed.  As  we  came 
out  we  were  beset  by  beggars,  old  and  young,  men  and 
women,  some  looking  lean  and  haggard,  others  well  and 
hearty  ;  but  I  had  one  answer  for  them  all,  that  they  should  go 
to  their  priests  and  demand  some  of  the  money  deposited  in 


196  LETTERS. 

their  hands,  that  would  otherwise  be  spent  in  purchasing 
trinkets  for  adorning  these  altars,  already  overladen  with 
ornaments.  But  I  verily  believe  some  of  them  would  rather 
starve,  than  see  a  picture  or  ornament  taken  from  their 
churches.  Not  that  I  am  by  any  means  against  hand- 
some churches,  not  that  I  think  that  the  house,  consecrated 
to  the  service  of  the  living  God,  should  be  poor  and  mean, 
while  our  own  habitations  abound  with  wealth  and  luxury. 
No ;  I  have  enjoyed  far  too  many  delights  in  visiting  these 
churches,  to  wish  to  see  more  common  edifices  taking  their 
places;  but  it  certainly  does  not  add  to  the  architectural 
beauties  of  a  church  to  see  them  tricked  out  with  finery  and 
trinkets  of  silver  and  gold.  Let  the  money  expended  on 
these  be  distributed  among  the  poor,  in  giving  them  trades 
and  employments,  and  how  much  more  glory  would  it  be 
for  such  nations,  than  to  have  it  said  that  they  had  among 
them  churches  rich  in  silver,  and  gold,  and  precious  stones. 

In  one  of  the  chapels  in  St.  Mark's,  is  a  piece  of  the  very 
rock  from  which  the  water  gushed  out  at  the  touch  of 
Moses'  rod  !  Oh,  wondrous  thing  !  Oh,  sacred  rock  !  Oh, 
miracle  of  miracles,  that  thou  shouldst  be  here !  Who  will 
dare  doubt  ? 

After  dinner  to-day  we  started  to  go  to  Lido,  an  island  two 
or  three  miles  from  Venice,  on  which  there  is  a  fine  beach, 
so  that  many  of  the  Venetians  keep  horses  there,  that  they 
may  enjoy  the  luxury  of  riding,  but  it  began  to  rain,  and 
our  boatmen  did  not  think  it  safe  to  venture  outside  of  the 
harbor,  as  the  skies  looked  threatening,  so  we  went  no  far- 
ther than  the  island  on  which  are  the  public  gardens  laid 
out  by  Napoleon.  This  part  of  the  island  was  once  covered 
with  buildings,  among  which  was  a  convent,  but  at  the  word 
of  the  mighty  conqueror,  they  disappeared,  and  a  handsome 
garden,  or  rather  park,  appeared  in  their  stead.  The  walks 
are  broad,  and  shaded  with  fine  trees.  A  few  horses  are 
kept  here  and  let  by  the  hour,  and  in  pleasant  weather,  and 
on  holidays,  numbers  resort  here  from  the  city  to  engage  in 


LETTERS.  197 

this,  to  them,  novel  recreation.  There  are  little  windino- 
walks  among  the  trees,  and  seats  arranged  in  picturesque 
spots,  and  we  spent  a  pleasant  hour  in  rambling  around, 
although  the  rain  occasionally  fell.  But  what  care  we,  trav- 
ellers in  homely  guise,  for  the  rain  1 

On  the  margin  of  the  island  is  quite  a  little  village,  and 
wonder  of  wonders !  in  this  village  is  a  street,  a  real  street, 
not  a  walk  like  the  passages  in  Venice,  but  an  actual  street, 
and  it  is  shown  to  you  as  one  of  the  curiosities  of  the 
place. 

Rapidly  sped  we  on  our  way  home.  The  usually  placid 
bosom  of  the  bay  was  a  little  ruffled,  dark  clouds  hovered 
around  the  horizon,  but  suddenly  from  their  midst,  out 
shone  the  setting  sun,  lighting  up  with  its  last  beams  the 
spires  and  domes  of  St.  Mark's  and  the  gorgeous  palace  of 
the  Doges,  and  the  time-honored,  weather-stained  edifices 
of  the  city  of  the  sea. 

Once  more  I  am  in  my  quiet  room.  The  deep  shadows 
of  midnight  lie  over  the  waters.  Even  the  dashina  of  oars 
and  the  songs  of  the  boatmen  are  heard  no  more.  I  turn 
my  eyes  toward  the  quarter  of  the  world  where  lies  my  own 
home,  and  I  wonder  what  all  the  dear  ones  there  are  busy 
about.  With  you  it  is  about  the  sunset  hour,  and  1  f:mcy 
I  see  you  all  engaged  in  drawing  to  a  close  the  occupations 
of  the  week,  that  you  may  be  prepared  for  the  holy  day,  and 
my  lips  breathe  forth  a  low  prayer,  that  we  all  may  be 
spared  to  meet  once  more  on  earth.     Again,  adieu. 

Monday  morning. 

I  have  arisen  early  this  morning  to  finish  this  letter,  that 
I  may  leave  it  here  to  be  forwarded  to  Paris.  In  an  hour  or 
two  we  leave  Venice,  probably  forever,  for  it  is  exceedingly 
doubtful,  **  amid  all  the  changes  and  chances  of  this  mortal 
life,"  whether  we  ever  see  this  city  again. 

We  yesterday  morning  attended  service  in  the  house  of  the 
English  consul  on  the  grand  canal.  None  of  these  chapels 
17* 


198  LETTERS. 

are  ever  open  but  once  on  Sunday.  When  we  went  in  we  dis- 
missed our  gondola,  and  so  we  walked  home  through  a  narrow 
passage  leading  to  the  Piazza  St.  Mark,  and  thence  to  our 
hotel.  We  found  the  "  piazza"  crowded  with  fashionables  of 
both  sexes.  The  ladies  here  are  much  finer  looking  than  I 
have  seen  elsewhere,  not  even  excepting  Florence.  They 
dress  gaily  and  handsomely,  but  with  more  style  than  modesty, 
for  many  appear  in  the  public  promenade,  wearing  dresses 
quite  low  in  the  neck,  covering  them  only  with  a  thin,  light 
scarf. 

We  stopped  a  few  minutes  in  the  Church  of  St.  Mark, 
where  we  saw  many  people  at  their  devotions.  Devotions ! 
do  I  say  1  Ah  !  it  bears  little  the  appearance  of  devotion,  to 
see  females  kneeling  in  a  church,  all  the  while  whispering 
and  laughing.  Oh  !  my  soul  is  pained  to  witness  such 
things,  and  I  long  to  take  the  deluded  ones  by  the  hand,  and 
point  them  to  a  purer  faith. 

I  rarely  see  any  thing  going  on  in  any  of  these  churches 
that  seems  like  preaching.  Their  ordinary  servic3  is  the 
mass.  There  are  two  pulpits  in  St.  Mark's,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  high  altar.  They  are  of  porphyry,  supported 
by  pillars  of  precious  marbles,  brought  from  the  Church  of 
St.  Sophia,  at  Constantinople. 

Strange  ending  of  the  Sabbath  day  !  yesterday  there  was 
a  boat  race.  The  scene  took  place  directly  in  front  of  our 
hotel,  so  we  could  not  help  seeing  all  that  was  going  on.  It 
commenced  at  six,  but  as  early  as  five,  the  street, —  ah,  I  for- 
get, I  mean  the  canal,  —  was  full  of  boats  filled  with  gay 
people. 

The  windows  of  all  the  houses  near  were  hung  with 
pieces  of  damask  and  tapestry,  and  all  kinds  of  showy 
goods,  even  to  colored  table-cloths.  Government  boats  were 
flying  about  to  preserve  order.  These  were  decked  out  in 
very  pretty  taste.  The  sides  of  one  were  hung  with  festoons 
of  blue  and  white  cloth.  The  oars  were  painted  in  lines  of 
blue  and  white,   and  the   boatmen's  dress  was  of  the  same 


LETTERS.  199 

colors.  They  were  dressed  in  a  kind  of  theatrical  costume  ; 
they  wore  square  blue  caps,  with  white  feathers  in  them. 
Another  boat's  crew  were  dressed  in  red  and  black,  the  an- 
cient bandit  costume,  and  another  still  in  pink  and  white. 
On  board  another  boat  were  the  musicians.  At  six,  two 
guns  were  fired,  and  at  this  signal  the  boats  started.  There 
were  eight  small,  light  boats,  each  having  two  oarsmen,  who 
stood  up  in  the  boat  and  plied  their  feathery  oars  with 
great  dexterity  and  activity.  They  went  about  three  miles 
from  our  hotel,  so  that  for  some  time  we  lost  sight  of  them. 
At  length  shouts  announced  their  near  approach,  and  soon 
one  boat  was  seen  darting  along  toward  the  goal,  followed 
almost  instantly  by  another,  and  still  another,  while  some 
distance  in  the  rear,  the  laggards  were  vainly  attempting  to 
come  up  with  them.  In  the  middle  of  the  grand  canal,  the 
prizes  were  distributed;  we  were  not  near  enough,  to  see 
this  part  of  the  show,  but  we  were  told  that  the  first  boat  at 
the  goal  gained  fifty  dollars,  the  second  forty,  the  third  thir- 
ty, and  the  fourth  twenty,  each  one  receiving  a  flag  in  addi- 
tion to  the  money.  Besides  these,  the  victors  generally 
receive  money  and  presents  from  some  of  the  wealthy  Vene- 
tians. A  race  like  this  has  taken  place  every  year  for  one 
hundred  years,  but  within  the  last  two  or  three  years  it  has 
been  given  up.  This  year  the  old  custom  has  again  re- 
vived. 

Notwithstanding  the  hundreds  of  boats  that  were  in  the 
canals  and  in  the  bay,  I  believe  there  was  no  accident.  Yes, 
1  did  see  one  man  fall  overboard,  which  frightened  me 
excessively,  not  that  I  feared  he  would  be  drowned,  but  that 
among  so  many  boats,  he  would  be  jammed  to  death,  but  he 
was  pulled  out  of  the  water  without  any  danger,  save  a  good 
ducking,  and  I  rather  thought  some  little  fright  to  himself 

There  was  no  appearance  of  riot  or  confusion.  Every 
thing  was  conducted  in  the  most  orderly  manner.  But 
hark  !  they  have  come  for  our  trunks,  and  I  must  bid  adieu, 
not  only  to  you,  but  to  dear  Venice  j   "  dear,"  from  its  for- 


200  LETTERS. 

mer  associations  with  ^all  that  is  grand,  and  stirring,  and 
chivalric,  tinged,  it  is  true,  with  the  dark  hues  of  religious 
superstition  :  "  dear,"  from  its  present  touching  desolation 
and  decay.  Yours,  as  ever. 


June  22d. 
My  dearkst  F.  : 

For  once  I  begin  a  letter  without  being  able  to  let  you 
know  where  we  are,  for  I  do  not  know  myself  the  name  of 
the  little  village  where  we  are  stopping  to-night.  All  I 
know  is,  that  we  are  two  days'  journey  from  Venice.  But 
I  can  give  you  a  better  account  of  the  past  than  the  present. 
We  left  Venice  Monday  morning  by  six  o'clock,  and  with 
saddened  hearts  bade  farewell  to  her  canals  and  bridges, 
her  palaces  and  domes  and  spires,  and  here  we  left  behind 
also  our  pleasant  fellow-traveller,  Mr.  T.,  so  that  Mr.  D.  and 
I  have  the  inside  of  the  carriage  to  ourselves,  our  books,  and 
maps,  and  cloaks,  J.  always  riding  on  the  outside.  At  Mestra 
we  found  our  good  Francesco  waiting  for  us,  his  faithful 
steeds  equipped  and  ready  to  take  us  on  our  way  to  Milan. 
I  cannot  but  feel  joyous  as  our  steps  are  bent  towards  the 
north,  because  I  feel  that  our  faces  are  now  turned  home- 
ward, that  each  day  is  bringing  us  nearer  our  beloved  home 
and  country.  And  yet  we  do  not  like  to  part  with  fair  and 
sunny  Italy. 

From  Venice  to  Padua,  where  we  stopped  last  night,  we 
found  the  country  very  like  that  through  which  we  passed 
before  reaching  Venice.  Our  road  lay  by  the  side  of  canals 
or  running  streams,  and  the  fields  were  fertile,  and  the  land- 
scapes pretty. 

Padua,  the  birthplace  of  Livy,  the  Roman  historian,  is 
now  rapidly  sinking  into  decay.  Some  of  the  streets  are 
wide,  others  narrow,  but   all  are  grass-grown,  and  bear  the 


LETTERS.  201 

marks  of  desolation  and  decline.  Many  of  the  houses  are 
ornamented  with  arches,  like  those  in  Bologna.  As  it  was 
but  two  o'clock  when  we  reached  Padua,  we  had  some  hours 
for  looking  about,  which,  under  the  directions  of  an  expe- 
rienced guide,  we  improved  to  the  best  of  our  ability.  This 
city  was  formerly  celebrated  for  its  University,  which  in  its 
most  flourishing  days  numbered  eighteen  thousand  students; 
now  there  are  about  eleven  hundred.  We  just  looked  into 
one  of  the  University  buildings,  around  the  sides  of  which, 
within  the  court,  are  monuments  and  inscriptions  to  those 
students  who  have  here  gained  honors.  Among  these  were 
English,  German,  French,  Italian,  and  Russian  youth,  but  I 
saw  none  from  our  own  land,  though  our  guide  assured  us 
there  was  one.  I  suppose  he  would  have  told  us  the  same 
if  he  knew  we  came  from  Greenland  or  New  Holland.  We 
went  into  one  of  the  halls,  where  we  found  that  students 
w^ere  students  all  the  world  over,  at  least  for  hacking  and 
marking  benches  and  desks.  Indeed  we  were  told  that 
those  here  were  sorry  chaps,  up  to  all  sorts  of  mischief, 
keeping  the  police  in  constant  vigilance. 

Of  the  various  churches  in  Padua  that  we  saw,  I  cannot 
fancy  that  after  hearing  of  the  churches  of  Naples,  Rome, 
Florence,  and  Venice,  the  account  would  be  very  interesting 
to  you,  so  I  pass  them  over  in  silence. 

To-day  we  stopped  a  few  hours  at  Vicenza,  celebrated  as 
being  the  birthplace  of  the  celebrated  architect,  Palladio. 
It  is  adorned  with  several  palaces  designed  by  him,  and 
built  in  a  rich,  yet  simple  style,  generally  in  the  Ionic  order 
of  architecture.  The  Basilica,  or  council  chamber,  was 
also  designed  by  him.  It  is  built  of  stone,  and  has  little 
arcades  running  around  the  lower  story.  But  the  master- 
piece of  Palladio's  genius  is  his  Olympic  theatre,  built  after 
the  model  of  the  ancient  theatres.  It  struck  us  as  some- 
thing quite  new,  though  by  the  way,  we  are  not  sufficiently 
acquainted  with  theatres  to  know  the  new  from  the  old. 
The  stage,  instead  of  having  a  curtain  and  scene,  is  a  scene 


202  LETTERS. 

of  itself.  Walls  are  put  up,  forming  cJifTerent  rooms 
adorned  with  pillars  and  statues.  The  whole  is  beautifully 
painted  in  landscapes,  the  city  of  Thebes,  I  believe.  The 
perspective  is  perfect.  The  pit  is  used  for  the  orchestra, 
then  come  the  tiers  of  seats,  ranged  in  semicircles  above 
the  pit,  and  front  of  the  stage.  Above  the  seats  is  a  gallery, 
adorned  with  statues  in  plaster,  representing  orators  in  dif- 
ferent attitudes.  This  theatre  was  built  in  1550,  and  will 
accommodate  twenty-five  hundred  persons.  It  is  now  used 
by  some  academy  as  a  school  for  declamation. 

We  then  strolled  out  of  the  gates  of  the  city  under  a 
beautiful  arch,  also  built  by  Palladio,  for  he  seems  the  pre- 
siding genius  of  the  place,  and  came  to  a  beautiful  ride, 
something  like  that  leading  to  the  Cascine  in  Florence. 
The  road  was  wide,  and  lined  with  two  rows  of  trees.  Be- 
neath the  trees  were  little  cafes,  in  the  form  of  tents,  and 
there  we  stopped  and  got  some  refreshing  ices.  The  coun- 
try around  was  charming.  The  summits  of  the  neighboring 
hills  were  crowned  with  castles  and  churches.  We  were 
much  pleased  with  Vicenza.  It  is  cleaner,  and  wears  a 
more  cheerful  aspect  than  most  of  the  Italian  towns. 

Now,  at  evening,  we  are  in  this  little  village  of  which  I 
cannot  give  the  name.  It  numbers  but  a  few  houses,  but  it 
is  situated  in  the  midst  of  the  most  beautiful  landscapes, 
and  has  mountains  and  hills  all  around  it. 

The  ride  from  Vicenza  here  was  delightful,  the  country 
fertile  and  rich  as  a  garden,  the  fields  full  of  "  yellow 
sheaves  of  ripened  grain."  On  our  way  we  crossed  a  bridge, 
the  scene  of  one  of  Napoleon's  battles.  The  sun  is  now 
setting ;  the  sky  is  soft  and  clear,  the  mountain-tops  are 
gilded  with  the  parting  rays  of  the  sun,  and  every  thing 
around  reminds  me  that  I  am  in  that  favored  land  where  all 
nature  is  lovely,  where  the  skies  are  soft,  and  the  breezes 
balmy. 

I  have  not  found  the  sunsets  so  surpassingly  beautiful  as 
I  anticipated,  I  suppose   because  that  in  our  own  land  we 


LETTERS.  203 

too  can  boast  of  fine  sunsets  and  glowing  skies.  Nursed 
amid  fogs  and  vapors,  the  English  know  nothing  of  clear, 
bright  skies,  hence,  when  they  go  to  Italy  they  are  enchant- 
ed with  the  sunsets,  and  the  beautiful  hues  of  the  clouds ; 
but  I  have  heard  English  gentlemen  who  have  been  in  the 
United  States  say,  that  they  found  quite  as  bright  skies  and 
soft  sunsets  there  as  here. 

This  evening  the  sky  is  beautiful,  and  you  will  not  think 
me  partial  when  I  say  that  it  calls  to  mind  some  of  the 
fair  mild  evenings  and  gorgeous  sunsets  I  have  witnessed 
at  B. 

After  we  had  our  dinner,  we  sauntered  out  along  the 
road,  under  the  overhanging  trees,  communing  in  silence 
w^ith  nature.  There  was  naught  to  disturb  the  stillness, 
save  here  and  there  the  laborers  returning  to  their  homes, 
after  the  toils  of  the  day  were  ended,  and  the  faint  hooting 
of  the  owl,  and  the  croaking  of  the  frog.  Oh,  how  much 
this  quiet  scene  reminded  me  of  some  of  my  favorite  w  alks 
in  my  loved  native  land  !  As  we  turned  our  steps  home- 
ward, the  peal  of  the  village  bell  struck  upon  our  ears,  its 
sweet,  low  tones  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  lovely  scene 
around. 

And  now  all  nature  seems  at  rest.  The  ever  active,  ever 
bustling  world  is  quiet,  and  it  is  time  that  I  should  seek  rest 
also ;  so  good  night  to  you. 


Thursday  evening. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

You  will  think  that  I  am  indeed  in  a  strange  land,  since  I 
am  not  able  to  give  you  the  name  of  this,  our  stopping-place 
for  the  night.  It  is  a  small  village,  but  it  has  such  a  long 
name,  that  although  I  can  pronounce  it,  I  dare  not  endan- 
ger my  orthography  by  venturing  to  spell  it.   I  have  given  up 


204  LETTERS. 

my  twilight  stroll  to  write  to  you.  Besides  I  have  been  so 
on  the  move  this  week  that  I  have  become  quite  exhausted, 
and  find  it  necessary  to  husband  my  strength  for  to-morrow's 
sight-seeing  in  Milan.  In  order  to  have  a  long  day  to- 
morrow, we  are  to  start  at  four,  that  we  may  arrive  in  Milan 
in  season  to  accomplish  something  in  the  afternoon.  But 
what  a  long  exordium  !  Now  to  the  subject-matter  of  this 
letter. 

Yesterday  we  rested  five  hours  at  Verona.  Rested,  did  I 
say  1  Yes,  if  that  can  be  called  resting,  which  consists  in  a 
change  from  riding  to  walking,  from  sitting  for  two  or  three 
hours  in  a  carriage  to  running  about  from  place  to  place  for 
as  many  more.  This  town  is  immensely  fortified,  if  I 
may  use  such  an  expression ;  the  walls  being  of  such  a 
thickness  as  would  seem  to  defy  almost  any  ammunition. 
You  may  have  some  idea  how  thick  they  are,  when  I  tell 
you,  that  large  shops  are  kept  within  the  lower  part,  yea, 
and  many  portions  are  used  as  barracks  for  the  soldiers. 
Many  of  the  fortifications,  and  some  parts  of  the  walls  are 
quite  modern.  This  town  suffered  severely  when  the  French 
besieged  it  and  took  possession  of  it  after  the  battle  of 
Marengo;  since  then  the  Veronese  have  been  determined 
that  it  shall  not  soon  yield  again,  so  they  repaired  and  re- 
built their  walls  and  increased  their  fortresses,  till  they  have 
made  it  one  of  the  most  strongly  fortified  towns  I  have  yet 
seen.  The  church  of  St.  Georgio,  which  stands  near  one 
of  the  gates,  and  an  adjoining  house,  were  much  battered 
by  the  guns  of  the  French,  the  house  in  particular,  being 
covered  with  indentations  made  by  the  balls. 

Verona  is  situated  on  the  Adige,  which  is  spanned  by 
some  very  fine  bridges.  Many  of  the  houses  are  quite  hand- 
some, and  there  are  some  noble  palaces,  among  which  was 
the  one  that  Napoleon  inhabited  the  two  months  he  was  in 
this  city.  Verona  boasts  of  having  given  birth  to  many 
distinguished  persons,  to  Catullus,  Emilius  Marius,  Corne- 
lius Nepos,  (whose  history  is  generally  put  into  the   hands 


LETTERS.  205 

of  youngsters  learning  the  mysteries  of  the  Latin  tongue,) 
Pliny  the  elder,  Viterbius  the  celebrated  architect  of  the 
Augustan  age,  Paul  Veronese,  and  some  others.  We  visited 
two  or  three  churches  in  which  were  some  good  paintings 
by  Titian,  Tintoretto,  and  Paul  Veronese. 

In  the  very  centre  of  the  city  we  passed  something,  not  a 
church,  not  a  house,  that  attracted  our  attention.  With 
eager  curiosity  we  stopped  to  look  at  it.  It  was  the  tombs  of 
the  Scaligeri  family,  who  in  the  fourteenth  century  were  the 
lords  of  Verona.  There  are  several  of  these  tombs,  two 
or  three  of  which  are  merely  sarcophagi  of  marble,  sculp- 
tured on  the  outside,  but  the  two  which  so  attracted  our 
attention  deserve  particular  notice.  They  are  much  more 
like  temples  than  tombs,  being  quite  lofty,  and  built  in  the 
Gothic  style.  They  are  neither  circular,  nor  square,  but 
six-sided,  supported  by  pillars  and  arches,  and  having  niches 
filled  with  sculpture. 

But  the  object  of  greatest  interest  to  the  historical  reader, 
is  the  Amphitheatre,  built  in  the  time  of  Trajan.  It  is  the 
most  perfect  in  its  remains  of  any  that  we  have  yet  visited. 
True,  it  has  not  the  great  height  of  the  Colosseum,  nor  the 
immense  size  of  the  one  near  Puteoli,  but  the  inner  walls 
and  the  seats  are  in  a  perfect  state  of  preservation.  It  is  of 
an  oval  form,  two  stories  in  height,  and  has  forty-seven  rows 
of  seats,  b'eing  calculated  to  seat,  Madame  Starke  (author 
of  the  principal  guide-book  in  Italy)  says,  twenty-three 
thousand  spectators,  but  our  guide  says  forty  thousand. 
*'  Who  shall  decide  when  doctors  disagree  ?"  The  arena  is 
two  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  long,  and  one  hundred  and 
thirty-three  wide.  It  is  now  fitted  up  for  shops ;  indeed  I 
saw  one  part  ornamented  with  a  blacksmith's  forge.  Strange 
perversion.  Yet  is  it  not  now  used  for  a  better  purpose, 
than  when  thousands  there  assembled,  to  see  men  torn  in 
pieces  by  the  wild  beasts? 

I  said  to  the  historical  reader  this  amphitheatre  was  the 
greatest  object  of  interest,  but  to  the  poetic,  to  the  lover  of 
18 


206  LETTERS. 

Shakspeare,  to  the  admirers  of  his  genius,  Verona  has  a 
still  greater  charm.  It  is  the  scene  of  the  far-famed  play  of 
Romeo  and  Juliet.  Nay,  the  very  coffin  is  shown  in  which 
the  heroine  was  placed  at  the  time  of  her  feigned  death.  It 
is  of  Verona  marble,  of  a  reddish  hue.  There  is  a  raised 
pillow  at  the  top  for  the  head,  and  a  socket  near  for  a  can- 
dle, according  to  the  customs  of  those  times.  Such  is  the 
rage  for  relics,  not  only  among  Romanists,  but  among  trav- 
ellers, that  parts  of  this  coffin  have  been  broken  off,  and 
transported  to  different  climes,  so  that  it  is  now  placed 
under  strict  surveillance. 

Thus  we  passed  our  hours  of  "  rest "  at  Verona ;  judge  ye 
how  much  refreshed  we  were  when  we  once  more  found 
ourselves  on  the  road.  But  last  evening  we  stopped  at  a 
place  that  amply  repaid  us  for  all  the  fatigue  of  the  day. 
Not  that  it  has  ever  been  made  the  theme  of  poesy  and 
song,  not  that  it  is  renowned  for  mighty  deeds  of  valor,  at 
least  not  as  far  as  my  limited  information  extends,  but  its 
charms  for  us  were  the  extreme  beauty  of  its  situation.  It 
was  a  little  village  on  the  lovely  lake  "  di  Garda." 

The  ride  there  from  Verona  would,  without  doubt,  have 
been  delightful,  had  not  clouds  of  dust  almost  totally  impeded 
our  view.  The  trees  along  the  roadside  abounded  with  lo- 
custs, which  kept  up  such  a  perpetual  humming  and  buzzing 
as  almost  to  deafen  me.  For  several  miles  before  reaching  our 
stopping-place,  we  were  in  sight  of  the  lake,  almost  encir- 
cled by  mountains,  on  whose  tops  rested  clouds,  black  as 
the  darkest  midnight,  while  the  surface  of  the  lake  reflected 
their  sable  tints.  Suddenly  a  cloud  rolled  away  from  a 
mountain-top,  leaving  behind  one  of  a  silvery  hue,  while  a 
still  more  distant  summit  was  faintly  lit  up  by  a  beautiful  bow, 
which  seemed  to  us  to  promise  that  the  dark  clouds  should 
soon  all  disappear,  and  a  glorious  flood  of  light  burst  in 
upon  the  enshrouded  scene.  As  the  clouds  changed  and 
moved,  so  changed  the  aspect  of  the  water,  now  overspread 
with    a   dark   shadow,  now   lit  up  into  life  and  loveliness. 


LETTERS.  207 

^he  whole  formed  one  of  the  grandest  scenes  I  ever  wit- 
nessed. 

Our  hotel  was  on  the  margin  of  the  lake,  and  our  win- 
dows looked  directly  upon  it.  Of  course,  with  my  usual 
liking  for  the  water,  I  selected  a  room  that  commanded  a 
fine  view.  The  waves,  for  even  the  surface  of  the  gentle 
lake  was  stirred  by  the  coming  storm,  came  in  with  a  heavy 
roar,  like  the  surging  of  the  sea ;  so  that  I  was  lulled  to 
sleep  by 

"The  moonlight  waves 
Returning  homeward  to  their  caves." 

At  sunset  we  walked  in  the  garden  back  of  the  hotel,  and 
rambled  along  under  apricot,  cherry,  plum,  and  almond 
trees,  interlaced  by  the  hanging  vine,  now  full  of  clusters  of 
green  grapes.  Through  the  branches  of  the  trees  we  caught 
glimpses  of  the  lake,  over  which  lay  the  deep  shades  of  twi- 
light. It  was  an  exquisite  scene,  and  worthy  the  inimitable 
pencil  of  Claude  Lorraine.  Will  you  accuse  me,  prosaic 
me,  of  becoming  romantic,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  rose  two 
or  three  times  in  the  night,  and  looked  out  upon  the  lake, 
then  calmed  to  repose  by  the  threatened  storm  having  passed 
harmlessly  by? 

To-day  we  stopped  at  Brescia,  a  clean  and  pretty  town. 
The  streets  are  clean  (a  great  rarity  in  an  Italian  city),  are 
well  paved,  and  have  two  rows  of  square  stones  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  street,  for  the  wheels  of  carriages.  The  streets 
too  can  boast  of  good  sidewalks,  another  great  novelty. 
There  are  some  fine  churches  and  palaces,  but  we  passed 
them  by,  that  we  might  have  the  more  time  to  spend  on 
some  ruins,  but  lately  brought  to  light.  It  is  a  temple, 
supposed,  to  have  been  dedicated  to  Hercules.  In  front  the 
ground  is  covered  with  fragments  of  marble,  pillars,  statues, 
and  tombs.  The  portico  of  the  temple  is  supported  by 
fourteen  immense,  fluted  pillars  of  white  marble,  none  of 
which  are  now  perfect.  The  temple  is  divided  into  three 
different  apartments,    each   having    its  own    altar ;    one  of 


208  '  LETTERS. 

them  is  quite  perfect,  the  others  are  broken.  The  walls, 
which  are  modern,  are  lined  with  ancient  inscriptions, 
statues  and  other  remains  of  antiquity.  The  floor  is  paved 
with  marble.  There  is  a  beautiful  bronze  statue  of  Victory 
having  wings,  found  buried  in  the  earth  near  the  temple. 
Underneath  is  a  subterranean  passage  which  extends  some 
distance.  We  were  obliged  to  have  torches  in  going  down. 
It  is  of  sufficient  height  to  admit  of  one  standing  upright, 
is  lined  with  marble  and  floored  with  mosaics. 

We  were  tempted  just  to  go  into  one  church  to  see  a  cele- 
brated painting  by  Titian.  It  is  one  of  his  masterpieces. 
and  represents  the  woman  taken  in  adultery.  Her  face,  so 
expressive  of  shame,  repentance  and  gratitude,  that  of  Christ 
so  full  of  benevolence  and  love  to  her,  and  of  stern  reproof 
to  those  who  judged  her  harshly,  are  admirable. 

And  now  I  must  stop  for  the  best  of  all  reasons,  that  I 
have  nothing  more  to  say.  In  such  a  case  is  not  silence 
pardonable  ? 


CoMO,  June  26th. 
My  dear  Friend: 

We  have  chosen  this  secluded  spot  for  our  resting-place 
for  the  coming  Sabbath,  and  I  sit  down  in  quiet  to  give  you 
the  record  of  the  past  two  days.  The  country  from  the 
town  with  a  long  "  unspellable  "  name,  to  Milan,  was  beau- 
tiful, highly  cultivated  and  well  watered.  Little  canals  bor- 
dered the  roadside  and  intersected  the  fields ;  tall  poplars 
lined  the  road,  which  was  level  and  good.  The  people 
were  industrious  and  seemed  happy.  It  speaks,  well  for 
Lombardy  and  the  Austrian  government,  that  ever  since  we 
have  been  under  its  dominion  we  have  seen  but  few  beggars, 
and  those  were  chiefly  in  the  church  of  St.  Mark  at  Venice. 
At  Padua,  we  met  but  one ;  at  Vicenza,  Verona,  Brescia 
none,  and  along  the  road,  only  here  and  there  one  at  goodly 
intervals. 


A 


LETTERS.  209 

We  passed  a  good  many  silk  factories,  where  dozens  of 
women  and  girls  were  busy  preparing  the  cocoons  and 
reeling  off  the  silk.  They  were  singing  at  their  work,  and 
seemed  cheerful  and  happy.  We  also  passed  both  yester- 
day and  to-day  numberless  loads  of  grain,  and  the  drivers 
are  the  sleepiest  set  of  fellows  the  world  ever  saw.  Almost 
every  one  was  extended  on  top  of  his  load  fast  asleep,  trust- 
ing entirely  to  his  careful  horse,  to  lead  him  safely  through 
all  difficulties.  I  was  much  amused  with  one  little  scene 
that  I  witnessed.  A  quite  heavily  loaded  cart,  in  which 
was  as  usual  a  man  asleep,  took  up  a  large  portion  of  the 
road.  The  driver  of  another  load  more  wakeful  than  his 
companion,  wished  to  pass ;  he  therefore  just  touched  with 
his  whip  the  other  horse,  causing  him  so  suddenly  to  jump 
one  side,  as  instantly  to  awake  the  sleeper.  With  the  in- 
stinctive politeness  of  the  lower  classes,  the  offender  touched 
his  hat,  bowed  and  said,  "  Pardon  me,  Signor,  for  disturbing 
you."  The  other  seemed  not  at  all  excited  to  anger,  but 
calmly  settled  himself  to  sleep  once  more. 

To-day  we  have  met  persons  having  on  their  necks  large 
swellings,  called  here  goitres.  Sometimes  they  are  on  one 
side,  and  sometimes  directly  in  front,  and  are  often  much 
larger  than  a  hen's  egg.  It  really  makes  one  shudder  to 
see  them. 

We  entered  Milan  through  the  eastern  gate,  by  a  fine 
promenade  bordered  with  trees.  The  streets  are  wide  and 
paved  like  those  of  Brescia,  the  houses  are  regular  and 
noble  looking,  and  before  we  had  advanced  far,  we  readily 
acknowledged  that  Milan  is  indeed  the  *'  Paris  of  Italy." 
We  stopped  at  the  Hotel  Suisse,  and  after  we  got  rid  of  our 
dusty  travelling  clothes,  procured  a  guide,  and  went  out 
with  as  much  eager  curiosity  as  though  sight-seeing  was  a 
rare  thing  for  us.  And  yet  has  not  every  place  some  new 
claims  upon  our  attention  ? 

We  passed  through  wide  and  clean  streets.     Think  it  not 
strange  that  I  enlarge  upon  this  subject,  but  really  we  have 
18* 


210  LETTERS. 

been  subjected  to  so  many  annoyances  in  the  narrow,  dirty 
streets  of  Naples  and  Rome,  that  it  sometimes  seemed  use- 
less to  us  to  attempt  to  be  clean  ourselves.  So  it  is  indeed 
a  luxury  to  walk  out,  without  being  obliged  to  change  your 
clothes  as  soon  as  you  get  home.  Through  wide,  clean 
streets  then,  we  walked  and  by  some  handsome  palaces,  till 
we  came  to  the  Palace  Brera,  in  which  is  the  academy  of 
fine  arts.  The  sculpture  gallery  was  closed,  but  we  saw  a 
grand  collection  of  paintings.  As  I  am  rapidly  hastening 
away  from  these  splendid  specimens  of  art,  I  begin  to  love 
them  more  and  more,  and  to  feel  that  I  can  scarcely  spend 
too  much  time  in  gazing  on  them.  I  thought  when  I  was 
in  Rome  and  Florence  and  could  see  fine  pictures  every 
day,  that  I  prized  the  privilege  much,  but  I  feel  now  that  I 
did  not  value  it  as  much  as  I  ought;  and  now  as  such  advan- 
tages become  more  and  more  rare,  I  seize  with  eagerness 
every  opportunity  that  offers,  to  feast  my  mind  upon  the  soft 
and  soul-like  beauties  of  Raphael,  the  gentle  loveliness  of 
Sassoferrata,  the  expressive  faces  of  Guido  and  Coreggio, 
the  dark,  yet  sublime  landscapes  of  Salvator  Rosa  and 
Bassano,  the  sunny  pictures  of  Claude  Lorraine,  the  masterly 
conceptions  of  Michael  Angelo,  the  glowing  colors  of  Do- 
menichino,  Caravaggio,  Guercino  and  Caracci,  the  subdued 
and  touching  sweetness  of  Carlo  Dolci,  the  splendid  master- 
pieces of  Titian,  Tintoretto,  Paul  Veronese,  Leonarda  da 
Vinci,  and  a  host  of  others  whose  paintings  have  been,  and 
will  yet  be  handed  down  to  posterity  as  the  perfection  of 
art.  But  what  shall  I  say  more?  —  for  the  time  would  fail 
me  to  speak  of  Rubens,  Rembrandt  and  Vandyke,  cele- 
brated in  coloring  and  in  figures ;  of  Brill,  Burker  and 
Poussin,  renowned  for  their  landscapes ;  of  Perrugino  and 
Julio  Romano,  the  one  the  master,  the  other  the  pupil  of 
Raphael ;  of  Albano,  Andrea  del  Sarto,  and  many  others 
whose  praise  is  in  all  the  world. 

In  this  gallery  are  pictures  by  some  artists  whose  names 
I  have  not  before  heard,  principally  of  the  Milanese  school, 


LETTERS.  211 

—  Luini  Berdini,  who,  in  point  of  time,  is  one  of  the  first 
whose  paintings  are  now  extant,  and  whose  pictures  are 
indeed  interesting,  not  only  in  themselves,  but  in  showing 
the  style  that  prevailed  in  his  day,  and  also  how  well  the 
coloring  has  been  preserved ;  Clespie,  who  has  a  fine  pic- 
ture of  Christ,  bearing  His  cross ;  Grozzi,  whose  beautiful 
landscapes  almost  approach  those  of  Claude  Lorraine  ;  and 
some  others,  whose  names  have  escaped  me. 

As  I  have  spoken  to  you  of  many  of  the  pictures  of  my 
favorite  artists,  I  will  do  myself  and  them  too  the  injustice 
of  passing  them  now  by  in  silence,  for  fear  of  making  my 
letter  too  long,  and  just  speak  to  you  of  one  picture  by 
Bolazzi,  a  Milanese  artist  of  the  present  day.  He  was  at 
the  time  but  twenty-five  years  old,  and  he  completed  it  in 
the  short  space  of  three  months.  It  is,  although  deficient 
in  coloring,  as  every  one  immediately  perceives,  one  of  the 
most  expressive  pictures  in  the  world.  It  represents  the 
Deluge.  The  heavens  are  shrouded  in  darkness,  save  in 
one  place,  where  the  lurid  lightning  makes  the  darkness 
but  the  more  visible.  On  a  rock,  surrounded  by  the  raging 
waters,  which  every  moment  seem  to  rise  higher  and  higher, 
stands  a  man  with  his  breast  bared  as  in  defiance  of  the 
storm.  His  head  is  thrown  back,  and  with  one  arm  drawn 
behind  him,  and  the  other  pointing  upward,  he  defies  Him 
who  commanded  the  deluge.  It  is,  I  had  almost  said,  the 
most  expressive  face  and  form  I  ever  saw  on  canvass.  De- 
fiance is  seated  on  the  haughty  face,  in  the  proud,  uplifted 
eyes,  in  the  swelling  form,  ihe  strained  muscles,  and  in  the 
firm  hold  which  his  foot  has  upon  the  rock.  At  his  feet 
kneels  a  female  figure,  her  arms  twined  around  him,  her 
face  lifted  beseechingly  to  him,  as  if  gently,  yet  agonizingly 
praying  him  not  to  brave  God's  coming  wrath.  Near  her 
on  a  projecting  piece  of  the  rock,  sits  another  figure,  cov- 
ered with  a  mantle,  with  bended  form,  as  if  resolved  in 
despair  and  sorrow  to  m'eet  the  doom  she  cannot  avert. 
Then  again,  behold  another  group ;  a  mother  holds  in  her 


2 12  LETTERS. 

arms  her  little  boy,  and  teaches  him  to  clasp  his  tiny  hands, 
and  raise  his  young,  innocent  face  to  Heaven  and  pray 
for  safety.  Besides  these,  there  are  several  other  figures, 
some  almost  submerged  in  the  waves,  some  lying,  some 
sitting  on  the  rocks,  their  faces  expressive  of  woe,  anguish 
and  despair.  This  picture  made  an  impression  on  our 
minds,  which  time  will  not  soon  efface,  and  again,  and 
again,  we  turned  to  it,  as  though  we  would  forcibly  impress 
it  upon  our  memories. 

After  dinner  we  rode  around  the  environs  of  the  city. 
Oui  attention  was  first  turned  towards  thet  riumphal  arch  at 
the  termination  of  the  Simplon  road.  It  was  designed  by 
Napoleon,  and  completed  by  the  two  succeeding  emperors 
of  Austria.  Without  any  exception,  it  is  the  most  beautiful 
specimen  of  art  in  the  shape  of  an  arch  I  ever  saw.  It  is  of 
the  purest  white  marble,  sculptured  in  the  richest  manner. 
It  is  seventy-three  feet  high,  and  was  finished  in  1838,  so 
that  it  is  in  all  its  purity  and  freshness.  There  are  three 
arches,  the  interior  sides  of  which  are  sculptured  in  bas- 
reliefs,  representing  different  historical  scenes.  The  roof  is 
sculptured  in  arabesques,  in  the  Gothic  style.  There  are 
several  large  figures  in  the  front,  representing  the  rivers 
Adige  and  Po,  Abundance,  Peace,  Minerva  and  Apollo. 
The  two  fronts  are  adorned  with  four  beautiful  pillars.  A 
railing  is  before  the  entrance  to  the  middle  arch,  and  no 
carriages  are  allowed  to  pass  under,  save  those  belonging  to 
the  royal  family.  When  Napoleon  designed  this  arch,  all 
the  sculpture  was  to  be  representations  of  his  battles  and 
victories,  but  after  his  fall,  the  jealousy  of  the  Austrian 
government  would  not  permit  these  designs  to  be  carried 
into  execution.  His  name,  however,  appears  on  the  part 
facing  the  country,  while  those  of  the  Austrian  emperors  are 
on  that  towards  the  city. 

We  ascended  by  a  flight  of  one  hundred  and  two  steps, 
(you  know  I  am  famous  for  counting  every  thing,)  within 
the  side  arch,  to  the  top,  on  which  is   a  car  drawn  by  six 


LETTERS.  213 

horses.  In  the  car  stands  Peace,  bearing  in  her  hand  an 
olive  branch.  The  car  is  beautifully  wrought,  and  the 
horses  are  so  large  that  I  could  almost  stand  under  them 
without  stooping.  On  each  corner  of  the  edifice  is  Victory 
on  horseback,  holding  out  tow  ards  the  city  a  crown  of  olive 
leaves.  All  these  are  of  bronze,  and  are  admirably  done, 
showing  that  sculpture  which  was  so  perfect  generations 
gone  by,  has  not  yet  declined  from  that  perfection.  The 
architect  was  a  Milanese,  and  he  was  employed  four  years 
upon  it.  The  whole  cost  of  the  structure  was  eight  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  the  bronze  work  alone  costing  two  hundred 
thousand. 

Near  this  arch  is  another  built  of  the  common  marble  of 
that  region,  through  which  pass  all  the  carriages  and  people, 
each  one  having  to  stop  to  undergo  an  examination.  In 
front  of  the  triumphal  arch  is  a  large  open  space,  clothed 
with  grass  of  the  brightest  green.  Around  this  square 
called  "  le  place  de  chateau,"  Napoleon  intended  to  build 
palaces,  which  design  expired,  with  many  others,  when  his 
sceptre  departed.  However  Napoleon  Bonaparte  may  be 
viewed  in  his  military  career,  no  one  can  pass  through  this 
country  without  admiring  the  genius  of  a  man,  who  designed 
and  carried  out  so  many  improvements,  for  embellishing  the 
cities  under  his  dominion.  Had  he  lived  twenty  years 
longer,  almost  every  city  in  France  and  Italy  would  have 
been  able  to  have  boasted  of  much  greater  beauty  than  even 
now  charms  the  eye. 

On  one  side  of  the  "  place  de  chateau,"  is  the  amphi- 
theatre, built  in  Napoleon's  time.  It  is  an  immense  building, 
calculated  to  seat  thirty  thousand  people.  There  are  nine 
entrances,  and  a  great  many  rows  of  seats.  Those  for  the 
royal  family  and  the  nobility  are  of  stone,  the  others  are 
covered  with  turf  The  arena  is  over  four  hundred  feet  long 
and  nearly  three  hundred  wide,  and  is  so  well  supplied  with 
water  by  aqueducts,  that  in  fifteen  minutes  it  can  be  com- 
pletely covered,  so  that  it  will   admit  of  boat  races,  which 


214  LETTERS. 

often  took  place  when  Napoleon  was  in  the  city.  Now, 
however,  it  is  used  for  horse  races. 

The  walls  of  Milan  are  nine  miles  in  circumference,  and 
the  whole  distance  round,  outside  the  gates,  is  laid  out  in  a 
magnificent  ride,  with  a  double  row  of  trees,  the  horse- 
chestnut,  the  buttonwood,  and  some  whose  names  I  do  not 
know.  This  forms  the  fashionable  promenade  of  the 
Milanese.  They  however  do  not  generally  go  the  whole 
distance,  but  only  about  a  mile  or  two  from  one  particular 
gate,  and  then  turn  around  and  go  back.  This  part  of  the 
ride  is  called  the  Corso.  We  met  in  our  ride  fine  looking 
carriages  and  horses,  and  numbers  of  the  great  people  riding 
out,  with  their  servants  in  rich  liveries,  consisting  of 
breeches  of  black  silk  velvet,  and  broadcloth  coats  trimmed 
and  faced  with  the  same  rich  material.  We  met  a  French- 
man on  horseback,  the  oddest  looking  genius  you  can 
imagine.  Our  valet  de  place  told  us  that  he  was  crazy,  or 
foolish,  I  don't  know  which,  the  word  "  fou  "  meaning  both. 
He  is  quite  wealthy,  and  appears  out  every  evening  in  a  new 
costume.  And  often  in  the  Corso,  when  "  all  the  world  " 
are  there,  he  walks  through  the  long  line  of  carriages,  lead- 
ing his  horse  after  him. 

Since  last  September,  a  rail-road  has  been  completed 
between  Milan  and  Monza,  a  distance  of  ten  miles.  As  we 
rode  by  the  depot,  we  saw  a  crowd  of  people  wending  their 
way  to  one  particular  spot.  I  asked  the  *' valet  de  place," 
what  was  going  on.  He  said  it  was  time  for  the  cars  to 
arrive,  and  he  asked  if  we  would  like  to  stop  and  see  them. 
We  said  "  no,"  to  his  apparent  amazement,  for  he  raised 
both  hands  and  said  with  much  surprise,  "  not  go  to  see  the 
rail-road  ?  Why  every  body  goes,  even  the  very  nobility  of 
Milan."  Well,  we  thought  it  would  not  do  for  us  to  be 
behind  the  nobility  in  curiosity,  Yankees  that  we  are,  so  we 
ordered  our  coachman  to  drive  there  also.  We  strongly 
suspect  both  he  and  the  "  valet  "  felt  much  pleased  with  this 
change  in  our  determination.     We  walked  some  ways  along 


LETTERS.  215 

the  rail-road,  inwardly  laughing  at  the  idea  of  our  stoppino- 
to  see  the  cars  come  in  from  a  distance  of  ten  miles,  when  at 
home  we  can  see  them  a  half  dozen  times  a  day  come  from 
four  times  that  distance.  There  were  hundreds  of  people, 
and  well  dressed,  fashionable  people  too,  and  dozens  of 
handsome  carriages,  waiting  to  see  the  arrival,  and  it  has 
been  just  so  every  night  since  the  cars  commenced  running. 
When  the  cars  came  in  sight,  the  multitude  shouted  and 
clapped  their  hands,  ladies  and  gentlemen  stood  up  in  their 
carriages,  and  all  seemed  as  much  excited  as  though  the 
greatest  event  in  the  world  had  happened.  The  conductor 
stood  on  top  with  as  dignified  and  royal  a  look,  and  he 
glanced  around  with  as  proud  an  eye,  as  though  he  was 
monarch  of  all  he  surveyed.  They  are  an  hour  in  going  the 
ten  miles.  We  wanted  much  to  go  to  Monza,  not  that  we 
had  any  curiosity  to  try  the  rail-road,  but  to  see  the  iron 
crown  with  which  all  the  emperors  of  Austria,  since  the  time 
of  Charlemagne,  have  been  crowned,  but  we  had  not  the 
time  to  spare. 

In  returning  to  our  hotel,  we  passed  by  *'  the  Grand 
Hospital,"  an  immense  edifice,  built  around  eight  courts, 
and  containing  five  thousand  beds.  Twenty  priests  stay 
there  all  the  time,  to  administer  Christian  consolation  to  the 
sick  and  the  dying.  Connected  with  the  building  is  a  small 
stone  house,  where  are  placed  those  who  die  of  malignant 
disorders,  whence  they  are  taken  at  midnight,  carried  out 
of  the  city,  and  buried. 

Opposite  to  this  is  the  "  Foundling  Hospital,"  near  the 
door  of  which  is  a  small  window,  with  a  little  bell  attached  to 
it.  Here  women,  who  have  infants  that  they  cannot  or  will 
not  support,  deposit  their  offspring.  They  touch  the  bell, 
whose  call  is  answered  by  one  of  the  attendants,  and  within 
the  window  she  finds  a  child,  without  knowing  whence  it 
came  or  who  brought  it.  However  benevolent  such  an  in- 
stitution may  be  in  itself,  it  certainly  seems  not  the  best 
adapted  for  a  country,  where  the  rules  of  morality  are  net 
strictly  followed. 


216  LETTERS. 

But  the  crowning  glory  of  Milan  is  its  Cathedral.  It  is  a 
grand  and  a  beautiful  edifice.  I  am  not  sure  but  I  like  it  as 
well  as  St.  Peter's.  True,  this  cannot  compare  with  St. 
Peter's  in  grandeur,  in  true  sublimity,  in  magnificent  works 
of  art,  but  in  beauty,  in  perfect  finish,  it  will  equal  it.  They 
are  both  perfect  in  their  style  of  architecture.  St.  Peter's  is 
vast,  but  its  vastness  is  not  fully  seen,  because  it  is  divided 
into  numberless  side  chapels.  But  in  the  Cathedral  at 
Milan,  with  one  glance  you  take  in  the  whole,  "  the  long 
drawn"  aisles,  the  vaulted  ceiling,  the  massy  pillars,  the 
floods  of  light  streaming  over  the  marble  floor  from  the 
gorgeous  windows,  all  strike  you  at  once,  and  you  stand 
awe-struck  and  entranced. 

I  shall  not,  for  I  cannot,  enter  into  minute  details  re- 
specting this  church.  I  will  only  give  you  a  general  idea  of 
it,  as  well  as  I  am  able.  It  is  nearly  five  hundred  feet  long, 
three  hundred  wide,  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  the  top  of 
the  cupola.  It  is  all  of  white  marble,  or  originally  was,  the 
parts  that  have  been  built  the  longest  being  discolored  by 
time.  The  roof,  tower,  and  minarets  are  new,  and  are 
dazzingly  white.  The  interior  and  exterior  of  the  church 
are  adorned  with  sculpture  and  statues,  productions  of  the 
best  artists  from  the  time  the  church  was  commenced  in  the 
fourteenth  century,  till  the  present  day.  We  ascended  by 
two  hundred  and  thirty-nine  steps  (counting  again)  to  the 
roof  of  the  church.  It  is  covered  with  balustrades  or  railing 
of  white  marble,  ascending  from  the  walls  of  the  church  to 
the  peak  in  the  centre,  each  separate  railing  topped  by  a 
beautifully  carved  flower,  no  two  flowers  being  alike,  so  that, 
as  the  guide  expressed  it,  the  roof  is  a  real  botanical  garden. 

From  the  roof  rise  one  hundred  and  twelve  minarets,  or 
light  tapering  spires,  each  surmounted  by  a  large  statue. 
They  are  filled  with  niches,  and  each  niche  has  within  it  a 
little  statue,  as  beautifully  finished  as  though  designed  for 
near  inspection,  instead  of  adorning  the  roof  of  a  church. 
There  are  more  than  five  thousand  different  statues  about 


LETTERS.  217 

the  church,  and  I  was  told  by  one  of  the  attendants,  that 
when  it  is  finished  there  will  be  fifteen  thousand.  I 
asked  "  When  will  it  be  finished  ?  "  He  said,  "  Never,  for 
as  soon  as  one  part  is  completed,  some  other  that  has  been 
built  a  long  time,  will  need  to  be  repaired,  and  thus  some 
work  and  expense  must  always  be  laid  out  upon  it." 

From  the  roof  we  went  up  by  more  than  two  hundred 
steps  into  a  fragile  looking  tower,  whence  we  had  a  full 
view  of  this  beautiful  edifice  ;  and  lovely  did  it  look,  with 
the  rich  sunlight  playing  over  the  dazzling  minarets,  and 
lighting  up  as  with  rays  of  glory  the  pale  statues.  Nor  did 
the  charming  view  stop  here.  Down  in  the  streets  of  the 
city  was  a  living,  moving  mass  ;  men  hurrying  to  and  fro, 
women  with  their  gay  garments  fluttering  in  the  wind, 
priests  in  their  rich  robes,  nobles  in  their  splendid  carriages, 
all  presented  a  scene,  seemingly  more  like  a  panorama  than 
like  a  real  thing  of  life.  Then  there  were  the  canals  and 
river,  w^inding  through  the  rich  green  vales,  the  villages 
scattered  through  the  valley,  and  the  distant  mountains,  their 
lofty  summits  almost  lost  in  the  clouds.  We  looked  through 
a  telescope,  and  saw  distinctly  towns  that  were  twenty  miles 
distant.  The  dome  and  spires  of  Brescia  were  plainly 
seen,  and  palaces  a  few  miles  off  were  so  clearly  discerned, 
that  we  could  see  people  moving  about  in  the  courts.  A 
light  misty  haze  hung  over  the  earth  ;  but  when  it  is  per- 
fectly clear,  Genoa,  and  the  sea,  eighty  miles  distant,  may 
be  seen,  and  so  clearly,  that  even  the  steamboats  entering 
the  harbor  are  discerned.  The  dome  of  St.  Mark's,  too, 
Mont  Blanc,  St.  Bernard,  and  St.  Gothard,  are  also  seen. 

With  regret  we  left  this  beautiful  spot,  and  descended 
into  the  church,  though  we  could  not  stop  long  even  there, 
so  eager  was  our  guide  that  we  should  go  with  him  into  one 
of  the  subterranean  chapels,  where  he  said  was  a  '*  grand 
sight."  So  we  went  down.  And  what  was  the  "  sight." 
The  tomb  of  San  Carlo  Borromeo,  the  patron  saint  of 
Milan,  for  every  town  and  village  claims  one  saint  for  its  own. 
19 


218  LETTERS, 

The  little  chapel  is  lined  with  solid  silver,  gilded  over, 
and  wrought  in  bas-reliefs,  representing  scenes  in  the  life 
of  the  saint,  and  over  these  are  hangings  of  crimson  velvet 
wrought  with  gold.  The  sarcophagus  is  of  silver  gilt,  and 
is  adorned  with  sixty  small  statues.  By  paying  five  francs, 
we  could  see  the  inside  of  the  sarcophagus,  so  the  torch  was 
extinguished,  and  wax  candles  lit  with  much  ceremony  and 
apparent  solemnity,  and  the  lid  lowered  by  pulleys.  Then 
was  disclosed  to  our  gaze,  a  coffin  of  rock  crystal  set  in 
gold,  in  which  lay  a  mummy-like  man  dressed  in  the  richest 
robes,  with  sandals  on  his  feet,  sparkling  with  the  most  bril- 
liant diamonds.  By  his  side  lay  his  sceptre  of  gold,  studded 
with  precious  stones,  and  over  his  head  hung  his  mitre,  set 
with  gems,  and  near  that  was  a  cross  of  large  emeralds 
framed  in  gold.  Around  the  coffin  hung  jewels  of  gold  and 
silver  and  rare  stones,  presented  to  the  shrine  by  pious  de- 
votees. One  was  a  singular  ornament ;  it  was  a  small  infant 
of  solid  gold,  presented  by  the  Duchess  of  Modena,  as  a 
model  of  one  of  her  own  gracious  offspring.  As  the  most 
of  these  gewgaws  were  given  by  Philip  IV.  of  Spain,  and 
the  remainder  by  other  great  personages,  no  one  has  ever 
estimated  their  expense ;  but  certainly  there  is  gold  and 
silver  about  that  dead  man,  sufficient  to  build  a  half 
dozen  churches.  The  cost  of  the  chapel  alone,  in  which  is 
the  sarcophagus,  was  two  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

After  we  came  from  the  Cathedral,  we  went  into  the  Pal- 
ace of  the  Viceroy.  It  is  a  large  building,  consisting  of  a 
centre  and  two  wings.  To  speak  to  you  of  the  furniture  of 
this  palace  would  be  but  to  repeat  former  descriptions  which 
I  have  given.  The  throne  room  was  hung  with  crimson 
velvet,  embroidered  with  gold,  and  the  furniture  was  covered 
with  the  same.  The  present  Emperor  is  forty-two  years 
old,  and  he  has  no  children;  his  brother,  who  is  heir  appar- 
ent, has  seven,  so  he  has  enough  to  supply  the  deficiency. 

We  passed  by  "La  Seala,"  the  great  theatre,    but   we 
could  not  gain  admission,  as  the  actors  were  rehearsing.     It 


LETTERS.  219 

is  the  largest  and  most  splendid  theatre  in  the  world,  and 
we  therefore  regretted  that  we  could  not  get  a  peep  at  the 
interior.    The  front  is  adorned  with  a  very  handsome  portico. 

We  then  prepared  to  leave  Milan  ;  not  but  that  we  might 
have  spent  a  week  there  very  pleasantly,  but  we  gave  to  it 
all  the  time  we  felt  that  we  could  spare,  and  so  we  once 
more  entered  our  carriage,  and  were  soon  on  the  road  to  this 
place.  We  found  the  ride,  though  through  a  pleasant  coun- 
try, almost  intolerable  from  the  heat  and  the  dust,  but  toward 
evening  it  grew  cooler,  and  less  dusty,  and  then  we  could 
see  that  the  country  was  charming.  Around  us  were  high 
mountains,  while  our  road  wound  round  among  the  hills 
and  valleys,  under  the  shade  of  large  trees.  We  met  labor- 
ers returning  from  their  work,  looking  pleasant  and  happy. 

I  felt  greatly  fatigued  when  I  got  here,  for  our  time  was 
so  fully  occupied  in  Milan  that  I  scarcely  allowed  myself 
any  rest,  and  it  was  so  dusty  and  warm  this  afternoon,  that 
I  could  not  take  "  a  nap  ;  "  however,  I  took  my  usual  med- 
icine when  weary,  viz.,  a  warm  bath,  and  now  1  feel  quite 
bright. 

This  is  a  small  town  situated  on  Lake  Como,  which  is 
quite  an  extensive  lake.  We  did  not  reach  here  in  season 
to  look  about  us  any  before  night,  and  even  if  we  had  we 
were  all  quite  too  tired  to  leave  our  rooms,  except  to  take 
our  dinner. 

Monday  morn. 

We  rose  this  morning  by  little  past  three,  (only  think  of 
it ! )  that  we  might  take  a  sail  on  the  lake  before  leaving. 
We  engaged  a  boat  to  be  ready  for  us  by  four,  and  at  the 
appointed  time  we  were  on  hand ;  but  we  were  kept  waiting 
for  a  half  hour,  an  iron  chain  being  thrown  across  the  en- 
trance to  the  lake,  so  that  no  boats  could  either  go  out  or 
come  in.  This  is  done  to  prevent  smuggling  in  the  night. 
We  sent  a  message  to  the  custom-house  officers,  humbly 
requesting  that  we  travellers,  not  traders,  might  be  allowed 


220  LETTERS. 

to  go  out,  as  we  were  desirous  to  see  a  little  of  the  lake.  But 
though  those  very  officers  sauntered  lazily  along  the  margin 
of  the  lake,  yet  they  would  not  lower  their  dignity  so  much 
as  to  order  the  chain  to  be  unlocked,  before  the  usual  time. 
I  can  tell  you  it  made  our  republican  blood  boil,  thus  to 
have  to  wait  the  pleasure  of  these  pieces  of  importance 
and  self-consequence ;  and  I  declared,  as  much  as  I  loved 
Italy,  sweet,  sunny  Italy,  that  I  would  not  live  here  for  all 
the  world,  to  be  subjected  to  so  many  petty  annoyances. 
Besides  this,  we  were  obliged  to  pay  our  boatman  a  franc 
and  a  half  for  the  time  we  were  kept  waiting,  as  we  hired 
the  boat  by  the  hour. 

We  sailed  up  the  lake  for  five  miles,  delighted  with  the 
stillness  and  beauty  of  the  scene.  High  mountains  were 
all  around  us,  and  at  that  early  hour  cast  their  lengthened 
shadows  o'er  the  still  waters.  In  some  places  the  lake  was 
so  shallow,  that  we  could  clearly  see  the  stones  at  the  bot- 
tom, then  again,  it  was,  as  our  boatman  expressed  it,  "  twenty 
men  deep."  The  mountains  sometimes  sloped  gently  down 
to  the  margin  of  the  lake,  and  at  others  hung  over  them 
with  precipitous  crags.  We  wound  in  and  out  by  projecting 
rocks  and  grassy  promontories,  each  turn  seeming  to  form 
the  termination  of  the  lake,  but  yet  it  stretched  on  farther 
and  farther,  and  we  might  have  gone  for  miles  without 
reaching  the  end.  We  passed  by  many  handsome  villas, 
among  which  was  that  formerly  occupied  by  Queen  Caroline 
of  England. 

I  have  written  this  while  waiting  for  our  breakfast.  Yes- 
terday I  spent  a  quiet  day  in  my  own  room,  at  least  as  quiet 
as  I  could,  seeing  that  I  was  in  a  noisy  little  town.  There 
were  loud  shouting  and  singing  in  the  streets  all  day,  and 
a  great  deal  of  sailing  on  the  lake.  A  steamboat  went  up 
the  lake  and  back  again  yesterday,  but  it  being  Sunday  we 
preferred  staying  at  home. 

After  dinner  J.  and  I  took  a  quiet  walk  by  a  winding  path 
along  a  mountain  side,  catching  here  and  there,  through  the 


LETTERS.  221 

o'erarching  trees  and  tangled  shrubs,  views  of  the  lake,  as  it 
lay  in  its  quiet  beauty  embosomed  among  the  hills.  We 
sauntered  along,  for  a  mile  or  two,  often  stopping  to  pluck  a 
"  wild-wood  flower,"  or  to  gaze  upon  the  calm  loveliness  of 
the  scene.  We  heard  no  sound,  save  the  rippling  of  the 
water,  as  the  oar  broke  its  glassy  surface,  and  the  song  of 
the  boatmen,  floating  faintly  o'er  the  lake.  It  was  a  sweet 
scene,  a  scene  of  Sabbath-like  beauty  and  repose,  and  I 
repeated  often  the  words  of  Coleridge  : 

"  Methinks  it  should  have  been  impossible 
Not  to  love  all  things  in  a  world  like  this, 
Where  even  the  breezes  and  the  common  air, 
Contain  the  power  and  spirit  of  harmony. 

And  then  when  we  look  abroad  on  all  the  beauties  of  nature, 
the  lofty  mountain  and  the  green  vale,  the  noisy  stream 
and  the  still  lake,  the  fertile  meadows  and  waving  fields, 
how  pleasant  it  is  that  we  can  say,  our  "  Father  made 
them  all !  " 

But  I  must  go  to  breakfast,  and  already  I  hear  Francesco 
coming  round  to  the  door  with  our  carriage  ;  so  I  have  time 
merely  to  say  good  bye. 


Sick,  Thursday  eve. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Now  we  are  in  Switzerland,  that  glorious  land  of  Switz- 
erland, amid  the  most  sublime  scenes  the  world  can  produce, 
at  least  so  it  seems  to  our  fancy,  excited  as  it  is  by  a  view 
of  the  grand  country  through  which  we  have  passed  this 
week. 

From  Como  to  Vesere,  our  next  resting  place,  the  ride 
was  interesting,  by  a  road  winding  among  the  mountains, 
sometimes  through  a  cultivated  country,  and  at  others  amid 
all  the  wildness  of  untilled  nature.  Some  of  the  mountain 
tops  glistened  with  snow. 
19* 


222  LETTERS. 

We  walked  around  the  tcwn,  seeing  nothing  that  was  par- 
ticularly interesting,  excepting  in  the  street  where  the  market 
was,  which  was  filled  with  ^shops  and  stands,  in  which, 
and  on  which,  was  displayed  almost  every  thing  likely  to 
attract  customers,  it  being  market-day.  It  was  really  amus- 
ing to  see  the  people  bargaining  for  what  they  wanted,  and 
had  I  understood  the  language,  I  should  have  taken  delight 
in  hearing  them  canvass  the  prices;  for  as  much  eloquence 
and  as  many  gestures  were  used  in  buying  a  yard  of  ribbon 
or  a  pound  of  cherries,  as  though  the  fate  of  the  nation 
depended  on  the  purchase.  I  am  convinced  by  what  I 
have  seen,  that  the  common  people  in  Italy  are  close  bar- 
gainers. 

The  women  in  Vesere  dress  in  queer  style.  Instead  of 
shoes  they  wear  sandals  made  of  wood,  and  fastened  around 
the  toes  by  a  piece  of  colored  ribbon.  These  sandals  have 
very  high  heels,  which  make  them  walk  badly.  Their  hair 
is  braided,  the  braid  carried  around  the  head,  and  stuck  all 
round  with  long  pins,  with  heads  as  big  as  a  thimble ;  there 
are  sometimes  a  dozen  of  them.  The  most  of  them  are  of 
German  silver;  a  few  of  the  wealthier  class  are  able  to 
sport  real  silver. 

We  stopped  that  night  at  a  village  on  the  beautiful  lake 
Maggiore.  The  ride  from  Vesere  was  delightful,  particu- 
larly after  we  came  in  sight  of  the  lake.  We  crossed  a 
river  (I  have  forgotten  the  name)  in  a  singular  sort  of  boat, 
drawn  over  by  ropes  in  some  way,  but  to  tell  you  the  plain 
truth,  I  did  not  notice  it  much,  as  my  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  blind  man  who  was  playing  on  a  violin  and  singing  by 
the  side  of  the  carriage.  He  sang  very  well,  but  I  enjoyed 
his  conversation  quite  as  much  as  his  music.  He  told  me 
that  he  had  been  blind  for  thirty  years,  in  fact  ever  since  he 
was  quite  a  child.  I  said,  *'  Have  you  any  family  1 "  On  his 
answering  in  the  affirmative,  I  asked,  "How  many  children  ?  " 
With  the  utmost  simplicity  he  replied,  *'  Oh  no  children, 
only  a  father  and  mother.     My  father  is  eighty  years  old  and 


LETTERS.  223 

my  mother  over  seventy."  I  told  him,  as  we  left  the  boat,  to 
take  care  or  he  would  fall ;  but  he  said  he  had  no  fear,  that  for 
twenty  years  he  had  gone  over  in  the  boat  almost  every  time 
a  carriage  crossed.  He  wished  me  good  day  and  a  good 
journey,  ("  bon  voyage,"  the  universal  wish,)  with  much 
apparent  interest. 

After  w^e  crossed  the  river  we  were  in  the  king  of  Sar- 
dinia's dominions.  An  officer  stopped  the  carriage,  and  in 
the  most  polite  manner  asked  if  we  had  any  thing  against 
the  government.  We  said  "  No."  ''  But  w^ill  you  have  the 
complacency  to  allow  me  to  look  ?  "  We  instantly  handed 
our  keys.  Seeing  another  officer  about  to  unstrap  the 
trunks,  he  said  it  was  unnecessary  to  disturb  them,  so  he 
took  our  carpet-bags  and  began  to  unlock  them.  I  had 
generally  succeeded  in  securing  my  carpet-bag  from  being 
searched,  by  merely  saying  that  it  was  my  "  sac  de  nuit  " 
(night  bag) ;  so  no  sooner  did  he  touch  it  than  I  cried  out, 
"  Oh  Sir,  that  is  my  night  bag,"  and  he  instantly  dropped  it 
as  though  he  had  no  right  to  meddle  with  that  part  of  my 
toilet.  But  Mr.  D.  came  near  meeting  with  an  adventure, 
that  might  not  have  been  pleasant  in  its  consequences.  He, 
seeing  that  my  carpet-bag  escaped  untouched,  had  stowed 
in  his  all  the  cameos  and  rich  articles  bought  in  Rome  for 
presents  to  his  family.  Fortunately  at  the  top  were  a  pair  of 
boots  and  some  articles  of  wearing  apparel.  As  soon  as  the 
officer  asked  for  his  keys,  he  gave  the  key  of  the  trunk  but 
not  of  the  bag,  saying  that  was  his  "  night  bag."  All  in 
vain  ;  the  officer  had  no  respect  for  the  "  sac  de  nuit  "  of  a 
gentleman  ;  he  demanded  the  key.  It  was  given  up  with  as 
much  readiness  as  possible  on  such  an  occasion,  and  we  all 
assumed  an  appearance  of  indifference  that  we  were  far  from 
feeling,  for  if  after  acknowledging  that  you  had  "  nothing 
against  the  government,"  articles  subject  to  a  duty  are 
found  among  your  baggage,  they  may  be  taken  from  you, 
and  a  fine  imposed  upon  you.  However,  Mr.  D.'s  good 
genius  befriended  him   in  the  shape  of  a  pair  of  boots  (sin- 


224  LETTERS. 

gular  form  though,  for  a  presiding  genius),  for  the  officer 
seeing  the  boots,  reasonably  concluded  that  the  bag  con- 
tained nothing  but  wearing  apparel ;  he  accordingly  locked 
it  and  gave  up  the  key.  We  all  breathed  quite  freely  then, 
I  can  assure  you. 

We  rode  along  by  the  banks  of  the  lake,  which  were 
low  and  green  and  prettily  planted  with  trees,  through  the 
branches  of  which  we  could  catch,  now  and  then,  glimpses 
of  the  clear  waters.  On  the  opposite  shore  towered  lofty 
mountains. 

Before  our  windows  in  the  inn,  the  lake  expanded  into  a 
broad  sheet,  skirted  by  lofty  mountains.  It  was  a  calm  and 
peaceful  scene. 

No  sooner  had  we  selected  our  rooms,  than  we  started  off 
to  see  the  colossal  statue  of  San  Carlo  Borromeo,  who 
was  born  in  this  neighborhood.  It  was  a  mile  from  the  inn, 
but  we  had  a  delightful  walk,  along  a  path  winding  around 
the  mountain  side,  by  the  margin  of  the  lake.  The  statue 
stands  on  a  high  hill ;  well  may  it  be  called  colossal.  Let 
me  give  you  a  little  idea  of  its  size  by  telling  you  some  of 
its  dimensions.  The  height  of  the  pedestal  is  thirty-six 
feet,  and  of  the  statue  seventy-two.  It  measures  twenty 
feet  around  the  head,  and  the  face  is  seven  feet  and  a  half 
long,  and  the  nose  two  feet  and  seven  inches.  The  arm  is 
twenty-eight  feet  long,  the  foot  four  feet.  He  is  represented 
in  the  robes  of  a  bishop,  which  measure  fifty-four  feet 
around.  Every  thing  about  the  statue  is  on  the  same  scale, 
yet  so  perfect  are  the  proportions,  that  it  does  not  seem  half 
so  large;  indeed,  I  had  to  walk  several  times  around  it  be- 
fore I  could  realize  it.  Well,  this  is  not  all  about  the  statue; 
people  go  up  inside  of  it ;  in  fact  four  men  can  stand  within 
its  head  at  one  time.  You  must  know  we  made  up  our 
minds  to  climb  up  too,  for  we  go  upon  the  old  proverb, 
**  What  man  has  done,  man  may  do,"  and  I  began  to  think 
how  I  should  puzzle  you  by  trying  to  make  you  **  guess  " 
where  I  had  been  :   but  when  we  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the 


LETTERS.  225 

Statue,  I  saw  a  great  high  ladder  resting  against  it.  I  asked 
the  man  who  acts  as  guide  there,  how  we  went  up,  if  there 
were  no  stairs  within  the  pedestal.  To  our  great  surprise 
and  disappointment  he  said  that  there  were  none,  and  that 
we  must  go  up  by  that  ladder.  Persevering  as  I  generally 
am,  I  must  acknowledge  that  at  this  information  I  drew 
back.  I  could  not  summon  courage  to  mount  that  ladder 
at  least  sixty  feet  high,  even  to  stand  within  a  man's  head 
and  to  look  out  of  a  window  in  his  neck.  The  gentlemen 
gave  up  going,  because  they  did  not  like  to  leave  me  down 
there  all  alone,  so  we  turned  our  steps  homeward.  The 
sun  was  slowly  sinking  behind  one  of  the  mountains,  which 
was  lit  up  by  its  parting  beams,  while  the  other  mountains 
were  darker  and  still  darker,  according  to  their  distance 
from  the  setting  sun.  The  lake  was  without  a  ripple,  and 
the  golden  tints  of  the  clouds  were  reflected  on  its  clear 
surface.  It  was  enchanting.  Who  would  imagine  that  a 
few  hours  would  produce  such  a  change  in  nature's  fair 
face  ?  That  night  there  w  as  a  heavy  tempest,  and  in  the 
morning  the  lake  still  showed  the  effects  of  the  storm. 
The  mountains  looked  dark  and  frowning,  though  occa- 
sionally lit  up  with  a  passing  gleam  of  sunshine. 

For  seventeen  miles  our  road  was  directly  along  the  lake 
side,  but  I  must  confess  myself  so  unromantic,  as  to  have 
slept  the  most  of  the  time ;  but  really  the  storm  was  so 
violent  the  night  before  as  utterly  to  prevent  my  sleeping. 
I  strove  hard  against  my  drowsiness,  but  the  inclination  to 
sleep  was  altogether  too  strong  to  be  resisted.  I  made  out 
to  rouse  up  when  opposite  to  the  islands  in  the  lake,  and 
had  just  got  my  eyes  open  far  enough  to  look  out,  when  it 
began  to  rain,  and  we  were  obliged  to  close  the  carriage 
windows.  There  are  three  islands,  Isola  Bella  is  the  pret- 
tiest, and  (I  think)  the  largest.  It  rises  up  into  quite  a  hill, 
laid  out  in  terraces.  There  is  a  palace  on  the  island  belong- 
ing to  the  Borromeo  family.  We  had  intended  taking  a 
boat  and  going  off  to  these  islands,  but  the  rain  effectually 
prevented  us. 


226  LETTERS. 

As  soon  as  we  left  the  lake,  we  plunged  in  among  the 
mountains  covered  with  trees.  Here  we  were  in  the  midst 
of  beauties  of  nature's  own  creation,  the  hand  of  man  being 
but  little  employed  in  heightening  them.  Here  were  thick 
trees  and  shrubs,  the  scene  constantly  changing,  by  the 
clouds  of  mist,  now  resting  below  the  mountain  tops,  and 
now  rolling  away  from  their  sides.  Hundreds  of  little  rivu- 
lets came  dashing  over  rocks  and  stones,  down  the  steep 
descent,  seeming  far  up  the  mountain,  like  silver  threads. 
All  around  were  immense  blocks  of  granite  taken  from  the 
mountain  sides. 

At  the  inns  along  this  road  we  saw  a  change  in  the  aspect 
of  affairs;  here  women  do  the  greatest  part  of  the  work. 
So  many  of  the  Swiss  are  soldiers,  that  almost  every  thing 
at  home  devolves  on  the  females.  In  the  hotels  in  Italy  all 
the  offices  are  performed  by  men,  even  the  duties  of  cham- 
bermaids. In  Rome,  Florence  and  Venice  I  never  saw  a 
female  servant.  My  bell  was  always  answered  by  male 
waiters. 

Tuesday  night  we  slept  at  Domo  d'Ossola,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Simplon  road.  For  several  miles,  before  reaching  it,  our 
road  ran  through  a  narrow  valley,  high  mountains  being  on 
either  hand.  A  little  river  murmured  along  by  our  side, 
fringed  with  willow  and  other  trees,  among  which  I  noticed 
quantities  of  the  kind  of  walnut  we  call  the  "  English  wal- 
nut." It  grows  in  abundance  in  this  country.  We  passed 
many  little  cascades,  foaming,  leaping,  dashing  down  the 
mountain  gorges,  sometimes  thirty,  forty,  or  fifty  feet  at  one 
leap.  In  the  crevices  of  the  mountains  we  saw  snow  in 
abundance.  The  mountains  were  dotted  with  little  white 
churches,  which  I  thought  were  often  more  numerous  than 
the  dwelling-houses. 

Yesterday  we  safely  accomplished  our  journey  over  the 
Alps.  We  started  at  four  in  the  morning,  and  arrived  at 
Brigg  at  six  in  the  evening ;  and  oh,  what  a  day  it  was  ! 
Through  what  grand  and  sublime  scenes  did  we  pass  !  From 


LETTERS.  227 

the  moment  that  we  left  Domo  d'Ossola,  till  we  reached 
Brigg  on  this  side  of  the  Alps,  not  an  uninteresting  spot  did 
we  pass  over.  Through  the  whole  of  that  day  our  attention 
never  flagged.  I  did  not  even  open  a  book,  so  intent  was  I 
in  reading  that  page  of  nature's  book  spread  out  before  me. 
And  then  the  road,  how  good  it  is  !  How  worthy  of  never- 
dying  honors  is  the  man  who  designed  such  a  work,  such  a 
triumph  of  art  over  nature  !  Truly,  if  Bonaparte  had  done 
nothing  else  but  this,  his  name  would  never  die.  For  twenty 
miles  our  way  was  upward.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  sec, 
mountains  were  around ;  mountains,  not  smiling  with  ver- 
dure, but  rock-ribbed  and  barren,  and  in  many  places  cov- 
ered with  snow. 

For  the  first  two  or  three  hours  we  were  in  the  king  of 
Sardinia's  dominions,  and  the  road  was  sadly  out  of  repair  ; 
the  bridges  were  broken,  the  walls  down,  and  in  two  places, 
we  had  to  pass  through  a  dashing  river,  the  current  of  which 
was  so  powerful,  that  if  our  horses  had  not  been  strong  and 
our  carriage  heavy,  we  must  have  been  borne  down  the 
stream.  Shame  on  the  government  that  will  let  such  a  noble 
work  go  to  decay  ! 

For  miles  a  brawling  torrent  ran  close  by  our  side,  dash- 
ing along  among  rocks,  its  thundering  noise  constantly 
sounding  in  our  ears.  Adown  the  mountains  were  hun- 
dreds, and  truth  may  I  say,  thousands  of  cascades,  some 
large,  others  quite  small.  Doubtless  the  heavy  rain  we 
had  the  other  night  increased  the  power  of  these  torrents. 
Look  where  you  would,  there  you  would  see  the  water 
jumping  and  springing  over  the  rocks,  down  the  precipitous 
sides  of  the  mountain.  More  than  fifty  strong  bridges  are 
thrown  over  these  cataracts,  and  six  grottoes  are  cut  out  of 
the  solid  rock,  through  which  we  passed,  sometimes  a  cata- 
ract roaring  under  our  feet,  sometimes  tumbling  over  our 
heads.  The  mountains,  in  many  places,  were  covered  with 
snow,  and  by  the  side  of  our  very  road  it  often  lay  in  banks, 
twenty,  thirty,  and   even  fifty  feet  deep.     And  this   too,  on 


228  LETTERS. 

the  last  day  of  June !  Often  a  bridge  was  formed  by  snow, 
under  which  a  noisy  cascade  was  wending  its  way.  On  sev- 
eral of  the  mountains  we  saw  glaciers,  appearing  like  what 
the  name  signifies,  '*  frozen  seas." 

Little  vegetation  was  seen ;  here  and  there  was  a  patch  of 
cultivated  ground,  but  every  thing  was  very  backward. 

About  eleven,  we  stopped  at  a  nice,  clean  inn,  in  the  little 
village  of  Simplon,  where  we  had  a  lunch  of  bread,  honey 
and  milk.  I  lay  down  and  slept  for  an  hour,  for  I  feared  my 
strength  would  leave  me  before  night,  if  I  did  not  get  some 
rest.  For  an  hour  or  two  after  we  started  again,  we  toiled 
up,  still  getting  higher  and  higher.  All  the  day  we  had  two 
additional  horses  to  assist  ours. 

Alps  on  Alps  arose  before  us ;  the  higher  up  we  went,  the 
more  they  seemed  to  tower  above  us.  The  pine  was  the  only 
tree  we  saw,  and  often  large  trees  lay  by  the  roadside,  having 
been  uprooted  by  powerful  winds.  There  are,  I  think,  a 
dozen  houses,  called  "  refuges,"  erected  by  government  for 
benighted  and  bewildered  travellers.  They  are  not  inhab- 
ited, however  ;  they  are  merely  designed  as  a  shelter  from 
a  storm  or  during  the  night,  for  those  who  lose  their  way 
among  these  mountains.  Occasionally,  tall  poles  are  fixed  in 
the  earth,  to  mark  the  course  of  the  road  when  covered  by 
snow,  for  among  these  precipices  and  cascades  the  least 
misstep  would  be  fatal. 

There  are  two  hospitals,  one  quite  an  old  one,  the  other 
built  in  1831,  for  any  that  may  be  sick  among  these  moun- 
tains. 

A»we  began  to  descend,  the  road  wound  round  and  round, 
so  that  we  could  look  up  and  see  the  tops  of  the  mountains 
far  over  our  heads,  and  their  bases  beneath  our  feet.  The 
air  was  cold,  and  it  rained  so  fast  that  J.  and  I  had  to  betake 
ourselves  to  the  inside  of  the  carriage,  we  both  having 
mounted  on  the  outside  in  the  morning,  that  we  might  have 
a  good  opportunity  of  seeing  the  country.  Indeed,  J.  walked 
a  great  part  of  the  way,  so  completely  was  he  '"'  carried 
away  "  by  the  grandeur  of  the  scene. 


LETTERS.  229 

As  we  came  farther  down,  the  earth  began  to  assume  a 
new  aspect.  Other  trees  than  the  pine  appeared,  grass  be- 
came quite  high,  grain  sprang  up,  and  it  seemed  as  though 
we  were  in  the  midst  of  a  new  creation. 

"  How  manifold  are  thy  works,  O  God  !  In  wisdom  thou 
hast  made  them  all !  "  Oh  !  who  can  look  upon  these  moun- 
tains, ancient  as  the  sun,  the  foaming  torrents,  the  snow,  the 
ice,  without  saying,  "  God  is  great"  ? 

You  may  be  well  assured  that  after  such  a  ride,  we  were 
somewhat  fatigued,  and  that  after  entering  the  record  of  the 
the  day  in  my  journal,  I  was  glad  to  seek  my  bed.  We  were 
obliged  to  be  called  early  this  morning,  as  we  had  quite  a 
journey  before  us,  but  now  we  are  once  more  at  rest.  From 
Brigg  here,  the  road  has  been  through  the  valley  of  the 
Rhone,  by  the  side  of  that  stream,  which  has  poured  alono- 
its  noisy,  babbling  waters,  with  almost  irresistible  force.  On 
each  side  of  us  have  been  lofty  mountains  shining  with  snow, 
whose  cold  blasts  have  come  so  fiercely  upon  us,  that,  wrap- 
ped in  coats  and  cloaks,  we  have  shivered  with  the  cold  all 
day,  and  yet  it  is  the  first  day  of  July. 

At  noon  we  stopped  at  Torteman,  where  was  a  fine  water- 
fall, bursting  out  of  a  gorge  in  the  solid  mountain,  and  fall- 
ing in  a  large  body  to  the  depth  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet.  Just  after  we  left  that,  we  came  to  another  fall,  not  so 
powerful,  but  more  beautiful,  the  water  gliding  over  the 
rocks,  and  falling  down  like  a  light  veil  of  gauze,  or  like 
snow-flakes.  It  was  really  beautiful,  so  soft,  so  flowing,  so 
gentle,  so  finely  contrasted  with  the  scenery  around,  which 
was  of  the  wildest  cast.  Besides  these,  there  were  other  and 
smaller  cascades,  dashing  down  the  mountain  sides,  and 
filling  the  air  with  their  noisy  merriment.  Sometimes  the 
hand  of  man  has  been  able  to  snatch  from  nature  a  little 
piece  of  ground,  but  generally  mountains  and  glens  seem 
to  be  in  their  pristine  wildness. 

The  women  look  neat  and  clean,  and  all  without  excep- 
tion, out  doors  and  in,  wear  a  little  straw  hat,  covered  with 
20 


230  LETTERS. 

some  kind  of  silk  or  ribbon.  They  have  fairer  complexions 
than  any  we  have  lately  seen,  and  are  exceedingly  courteous. 
All  the  people  we  meet,  both  men  and  women,  greet  us,  the 
men  bowing  and  touching  their  hats,  saying,  "  Bon  jour, 
monsieur,"  (good  morning,  sir,)  and  the  women  kissing  their 
hands.  We  have  met  several  beggars,  mostly  children. 
They  would  run  along  by  the  side  of  the  carriage,  with 
clasped  hands,  only  occasionally  unclasping  them  to  kiss 
them,  or  to  point  to  their  mouths,  in  token  that  they  were 
hungry. 

And  now,  after  this  long  epistle,  you  will  permit  me  to 
rest  awhile.         As  ever,  yours. 


GENEVA;  July  5th. 
My  dear  Friend: 

Our  national  festival  has  passed  by  without  our  being  able  to 
notice  it,  except  by  just  speaking  of  it.  Through  our  banker 
we  were  invited  to-partake  of  a  dinner  to  be  given  on  "the 
fourth,"  by  the  Americans  at  present  in  the  city,  but  it  being 
Sunday,  we  "  respectfully  declined."  The  moment  we  ar- 
rived at  the  hotel,  we  despatched  one  of  the  waiters  to  the 
banker's,  to  see  if  we  had  letters.  We  could  not  wait  for 
the  gentlemen  to  dress  and  go,  as  by  that  time  banking  hours 
would  be  over,  and  then  we  should  have  been  obliged  to  have 
waited  till  this  morning.  But  what  a  rich  treat  to  us !  The 
messenger  returned  with  three  letters.  We  stopped  in  the 
midst  of  the  operation  of  unpacking,  to  read  them  and  get 
the  news  from  home,  dear  home.  But  in  my  eagerness  to 
tell  you  these  things,  I  have  quite  forgotten  to  speak  about 
our  journey  hither,  so  I  mu§t  go  back  a  few  days. 

We  stopped  Friday  night  at  St.  Gingoulph,  on  the  Lake  of 
Geneva.     For  the  first  part  of  the  day,  our  ride  was  like  that 


LETTERS.  231 

of  the  day  before,  through  a  valley  having  lofty  mountains  on 
both  sides.  Afterwards,  the  asperities  of  nature  softened 
down,  the  fields  began  to  assume  a  more  verdant  and  fertile 
look ;  meadows  of  rich  grass  and  grain,  and  several  vine- 
yards, gave  variety  to  the  scene.  The  vine  is  cultivated  here 
in  the  same  manner  as  in  France. 

At  last  we  came  in  sight  of  the  beautiful  Lake  of  Geneva, 
its  blue  waters  looking  so  calm  and  lovely,  that  it  well  merits 
all  the  praise  so  liberally  bestowed  on  it  by  poets  and  paint- 
ers. The  weather  became  milder,  so  that  we  could  venture 
to  have  the  carriage  windows  open. 

We  were  then  under  the  king  of  Sardinia;  but  we  had 
no  trouble  with  our  baggage,  for  our  name  of  Americans 
seemed  to  have  a  charm  connected  with  it,  for  as  soon  as  we 
told  who  we  were,  our  trunks  were  left  untouched.  Our  pass- 
ports, however,  were  rigorously  examined,  but  so  much  pains 
have  we  spent  on  these,  that  no  flaw  can  be  found  in  them. 
We  were  generally  detained  about  a  half  hour  at  each  town 
through  which  we  passed,  while  they  were  being  examined, 
and  when  brought  back  to  us,  the  officer  would  politely 
touch  his  hat,  and  ask  for  his  fee,  that  he  might  drink  our 
health,  and  if  it  was  not  in  proportion  to  his  expectations, 
he  would  have  no  hesitation  to  demand  more  ;  nay,  we  have 
sometimes  known  one  of  them  to  run  a  half  mile  or  more 
after  us.     Dignified,  surely  ! 

We  enjoyed  a  fine  walk  last  evening,  along  the  lake  side, 
breathing  the  mild  air,  and  inhaling  the  fragrance  of  the  new 
mown  hay.  All  were  employed,  men,  women  and  children ; 
all  seem  born  to  work.  It  is  astonishing  to  see  what  basket 
loads  and  what  bundles  of  hay  the  women  and  children  will 
carry  on  their  heads  and  backs.  Some  assign  this  as  the 
cause  of  those  dreadful  swellings  on  the  neck. 

I  told  Francesco  yesterday  that  the  women  in  the  United 
States  did  not  work  in  the  fields  as  in  this  country.  He 
seemed  surprised,  but  said  that  here  many  of  the  men  go 
into  the  towns  and  become  waiters  in  hotels,  and  many  are 


232  LETTERS. 

soldiers,  so  that  the  women  must  work,  or  else  nothing  would 
be  done.  So  industrious  are  they  that  we  saw  many  knitting 
as  they  went  home  from  the  fields. 

We  begin  to  feel  almost  at  home,  as  we  hear  French 
spoken  all  around  us.  We  had  a  real  pleasant,  sociable 
landlady  at  St.  Gingoulph.  I  soon  got  into  her  good  graces, 
by  praising  the  bed-curtains,  which  were  made  of  white 
cambric,  ruffled  around  the  border.  With  much  seeming 
pride  she  told  me  that  she  made  them  herself,  and  pointed  to 
the  blankets  as  being  of  her  own  manufacture  also. 

Once  more   we    are    in   Switzerland,  the    land   of  high 

mountains  and  deep  vales,  the  land  of  lakes  and  foaming 

torrents,  the  most  beautiful   and  picturesque  country  in  the 

world ;  in  Switzerland 

"  The  nurse  of  liberty, 
The  home  of  the  gallant,  great  and  free." 

From  St.  Gingoulph  here,  we  passed  through  an  enchant- 
ing country,  fertile  and  well  watered.  Apple,  cherry, 
chestnut  and  walnut  trees  we  saw  in  abundance.  The 
meadows  were  beautiful,  some  laden  with  the  ripening  grain, 
others  covered  with  the  sweet  smelling  hay.  All  the  day 
we  were  in  sight  of  the  lake,  whose  waters  are  of  the  most 
charming  blue  imaginable. 

We  are  at  the  Hotel  I'Ecu,  where  all  the  waiters  speak 
English.  The  fashionable  hotel  of  Geneva,  where  most  of 
the  English  travellers  stop,  is  the  "  Bergue,"  where  every 
thing  is  served  in  fine  style,  all  the  waiters  being  obliged  to 
appear  at  table  in  white  gloves.  But  we  chose  a  more 
humble  abode,  and  find  all  things  to  our  liking. 

Yesterday  morning  we  attended  church  in  the  chapel  of 
the  hospital,  where  we  heard  the  best  sermon  we  have  heard 
since  we  left  home. 

After  dinner  we  walked  out  beyond  the  gates.  We  passed 
the  church  in  which  Calvin  formerly  preached.  Ah  !  far 
different  are  the  doctrines  now  inculcated  from  that  pulpit, 
than  those  preached  by  the  great  reformer. 


LETTERS.  233 

A  deep  wide  moat,  filled  with  the  blue  waters  of  the 
Rhone,  runs  around  the  walls  of  the  city.  It  is  enclosed 
between  high  banks,  which  are  covered  with  grass,  and 
planted  with  trees.  We  wandered  along  through  shady 
lanes,  till  we  came  to  a  cemetery,  having  over  the  gate  in 
French,  the  texts,  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the 
Lord ;  they  rest  from  their  labors,  and  their  works  follow 
them  ;  "  '*  He  that  believeth  on  me  shall  live,  even  though 
he  were  dead."  We  soon  found  it  was  a  Protestant 
ground,  the  tall  crosses  of  the  Romish  cemetery,  we  saw 
towering  over  the  wall,  which  divides  the  two.  It  was  too 
late  for  us  to  visit  that,  so  we  confined  our  attention  to  the 
first.  This  ground  is  rather  pretty  ;  the  graves  are  planted 
around  with  flowers,  and  shaded  by  fine  trees.  We  saw 
many  women  with  water-pots  in  their  hands,  on  their  way 
to  tend  the  flowers  on  the  graves  of  their  loved  ones.  I  can 
but  repeat  what  I  have  before  said,  that  to  me  it  is  a  touch- 
ing custom,  thus  to  invest  the  graves  of  the  departed  with 
those  emblems  of  light  and  loveliness. 

On  our  way  home  we  met  crowds  of  people  in  the 
streets.  We  passed  a  tent  in  which  were  two  live  serpents 
for  show.  On  a  stage  in  front  were  musicians  who  were 
vigorously  playing,  while  men,  women,  and  children  were 
pouring  in  to  behold  the  curiosities.  This  I  hardly  expected 
in  Protestant  Geneva. 

This  day  we  have  spent  in  looking  about  this  city.  We 
do  not  find  it  situated  according  to  previous  expectations,  as 
we  always  imagined  it  lay  directly  on  the  lake,  which  spread 
out  in  full  expanse  before  it ;  instead  of  which,  it  lies  on  the 
narrowest  part  of  the  lake,  so  that  but  little  of  it  is  seen 
from  the  town.  In  fact,  it  is  more  upon  the  Rhone  which 
runs  through  a  part  of  the  lake,  than  on  the  lake  itself. 
From  our  windows,  we  look  out  upon  the  river,  which  runs 
by  with  its  rapid,  noisy,  current ;  beyond  that  we  see  the 
lake,  calm  and  placid,  its  banks  green  and  beautiful. 

We  rode  this  afternoon  to  Ferney,  Voltaire's  villa.  It 
20* 


234  LETTERS. 

was  a  charming  ride;  the  environs  of  Geneva  are  really 
beautiful.  The  land  is  highly  cultivated,  and  rich  as  a 
garden.  We  passed  fine  country  seats,  the  grounds  well 
laid  out.  Near  every  house  were  seats  under  a  tree,  where 
each  family  was  assembled,  engaged  in  various  avocations, 
and  enjoying  the  grateful  shade. 

The  immediate  approach  to  the  villa  is  through  an 
avenue  of  grand  old  trees;  the  house  itself  is  plain.  Two 
rooms  only  are  shown,  in  which  all  things  remain  the  same 
as  when  occupied  by  Voltaire.  The  walls  of  the  bed-chamber 
are  lined  with  faded  blue  silk,  the  old-fashioned  chairs 
covered  with  the  same.  The  hangings  of  the  bed  were  once 
like  the  furniture,  as  several  tattered  remnants  show  ;  but 
alas  1  such  is  the  rage  for  relics,  that  almost  the  whole  of  it 
has  been  carried  off  in  "  piecemeals,"  by  travellers. 

Around  the  room  were  several  portraits,  among  which  I 
saw  one  of  Washington.  In  the  other  room,  a  kind  of 
saloon,  are  several  pictures,  the  most  conspicuous  of  which 
is  one  representing  Voltaire  presenting  a  copy  of  his  Henri- 
ade  to  Apollo,  while  some  nymphs  are  carrying  other  copies 
to  the  Temple  of  Fame,  and  others  are  driving  his  enemies 
down  to  the  lower  regions.  It  is  said  that  this  was  designed 
by  Voltaire  himself ;  if  so,  it  shows  his  insufferable  vanity 
and  egotism. 

An  old  man,  tottering  under  the  weight  of  near  fourscore 
years  and  ten,  showed  us  around  the  grounds,  which  were 
prettily  laid  out.  He  was  fourteen  years  old  when  Voltaire 
died,  and  had  then  been  living  five  years  in  his  service.  I 
do  not  know  but  that  he  told  us  some  interesting  anecdotes 
of  "  the  great  man  ;  "  if  so  they  were  entirely  lost  upon  us, 
for  from  his  want  of  teeth  he  spoke  so  indistinctly,  that  it 
was  impossible  for  us  to  understand  much  that  he  said.  He 
showed  us  through  a  long  arbor,  made  by  the  hornbeam 
intersecting  itself  overhead,  where  the  poet,  the  historian, 
the  satirist,  used  to  walk  every  morning  from  nine  till 
twelve.     There  were  several  openings  in  the  side,  whence 


LETTERS.  235 

were  seen  beautiful  views  of  the  country,  backed  by  *'  old 
Mont  Blanc,"  which  latter,  however,  we  did  not  see,  as  it 
was  obscured  by  clouds.  At  the  end  of  the  arbor  was  a 
bench,  on  which  Voltaire  used  to  sit  while  he  wrote.  It  is 
broken  and  despoiled  of  many  goodly  fragments,  no  doubt 
carried  off  by  the  bed-curtain  "  hookers."  For  my  own 
part,  I  had  not  the  slightest  wish  to  take  any  thing,  not  even 
a  blade  of  grass,  as  I  have  no  particular  respect  for  the 
character  of  so  gross  an  infidel,  however  great  were  his 
intellectual  abilities.  Among  the  trees,  a  large  elm  was 
pointed  out  to  us,  as  planted  by  Voltaire's  hand,  and  great 
was  the  indignation  of  our  old  cicerone,  because  a  visitor 
who  was  there  at  the  same  time  with  us,  dared  to  doubt  it. 
We  did  not  enter  the  little  church  built  by  Voltaire,  as  it  is 
now  used  as  a  woodhouse  ! 

On  our  ride  back,  we  stopped  before  a  chateau,  and 
walked  through  a  fine  park,  to  behold  the  junction  of  the 
Arve  and  the  Rhone.  It  is  really  a  curious  sight,  for  the 
Rhone  is  of  a  clear  blue,  and  the  Arve  of  a  muddy  white. 
Both  flow  with  a  swift  current,  and  both  seem  to  try  their 
utmost  to  see  which  shall  gain  the  ascendancy,  and  the 
longest  preserve  its  individual  colors.  At  last,  however, 
they  both  mingle  into  one,  and  the  Arve  is  lost  in  the 
Rhone.  Here  we  were  told  was  a  magnificent  view  of 
Mont  Blanc,  which  assertion  we  took  in  faith,  not  being 
able  to  see  it  ourselves,  being  hidden  by  the  mists.  After 
we  came  back,  we  rode  around  the  city.  There  are  few 
public  buildings  worthy  of  note,  but  many  of  the  private 
houses  are  really  elegant,  and  there  is  a  beautiful  botanic 
garden.  The  principal  shops  are  filled  with  jewelry  ;  indeed 
every  second  or  third  shop  shone  with  watches  and  trinkets, 
the  Geneva  workmanship  in  gold,  being  celebrated  all  the 
world  over. 

We  have  packed  up  our  trunks,  and  to-morrow,  with 
simply  a  carpet-bag,  we  start  on  our  excursion  to  Chamouni. 
I  am  heartily  tired  of  this  packing  and  unpacking.     I  shall 


236  LETTERS. 

be  glad  when  we  get  back  to  Paris,  so  that  we  can  have  our 
other  trunk,  and  then  we  shall  not  be  obliged  thus  constantly 
to  tax  our  ingenuity,  in  stowing  away  many  articles  in  the 
smallest  possible  space. 

When  we  return  from  our  mountain  trip,  I   shall  again 
write ;   so  for  the  present  adieu. 


Geneva,  Thursday  eve. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Wearied  with  our  excursion  which  occupied  three  days, 
and  lame  from  riding,  I  seat  myself  to  write  to  you.  Fa- 
tiguing as  this  trip  was,  it  has  been  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting that  we  have  taken. 

At  six  o'clock  on  Tuesday  morning  we  started  in  a 
*'  caleche,"  a  sort  of  barouche  with  a  top  that  could  be  put 
up  or  let  down  at  pleasure.  Two  or  three  miles  from  Ge- 
neva, our  passports  were  called  for  and  rigidly  scrutinized, 
but  we  had  taken  the  precaution  of  obtaining  the  Sardinian 
minister's  signature,  before  leaving  Geneva,  for  which  im- 
portant thing  we  had  to  pay  four  francs.  However,  many 
a  poor  wight  has  been  obliged  to  go  back  to  Geneva,  for 
failing  to  have  his  passport  thus  countersigned  ;  and  I  have 
heard  of  one  who  prevailed  on  the  officer  to  allow  him  to  go 
on,  sending  his  passport  back  for  the  requisite  signature, 
for  which  privilege  when  he  returned,  he  had  the  pleasure 
of  paying  five  dollars !  And  all  this  trouble,  because  we 
pass  through  a  little  corner  of  the  king  of  Sardinia's  do- 
minions. 

While  waiting  to  have  our  passports  examined,  we  found 
the  time  any  thing  but  tedious,  for  we  were  amused  at  a 
little  scene  that  occurred. 

A  man  passed  our  carriage ;  the  officer  darted  upon  him, 
punched  his  sides,   felt   in  his  pockets,  took   off  his    hat ; 


LETTERS.  237 

showing  in  such  demonstrations  of  his  zeal  for  his  country's 
weal  that  he  was  determined  to  allow  of  no  smuggling,  not 
even  in  those  little  articles,  that  might  be  conveniently  car- 
ried about  the  person.  But  the  face  and  air  of  the  man 
who  was  undergoing  this  surveillance,  were  worthy  all 
praise.  Not  a  shade  of  surprise,  not  a  look  of  anger,  crossed 
his  features,  but  he  stood  the  very  picture  of  patience  and 
submission. 

Our  ride  to  St.  Martin's  occupied  us  several  hours,  but 
we  found  it  far  from  tedious,  as  it  was  through  a  fine  coun- 
try. Near  Geneva  the  scenes  were  soft  and  beautiful,  but 
after  we  left  that  city  several  miles  behind  us,  they  became 
wild  and  grand.  Mountains  stretched  their  lofty  summits 
around  us,  seeming  to  block  our  way  ;  the  noisy  Arve  dash- 
ed by  us,  and  cascades  darted  down  the  mountain  sides, 
roaring  and  tumbling  along  as  though  chased  by  a  super- 
natural power. 

The  cdtaract  of  Aspenaz  falls  eight  hundred  feet,  and 
though  at  the  top  it  seems  like  a  large  body  of  water,  yet  so 
great  is  its  fall,  that  before  it  reaches  the  rocks  below,  it 
dies  away  in  mist.  In  the  early  morning  there  had  been 
quite  a  heavy  rain,  and  in  this  land  of  torrents  and  moun- 
tain streams,  the  slightest  shower  produces  its  quick  effects. 
In  two  places  we  found  the  road  almost  impassable. 
Large  stones  had  been  swept  down  by  the  force  of  the 
water,  filling  up  the  road,  while  the  mud  and  clay  were  so 
thick,  that  our  wheels  sank  in  to  their  hubs.  Men,  women 
and  children  had  collected  "  en  masse  "  to  repair  the  breach- 
es, their  pantaloons,  petticoats,  &.c.  tucked  up  over  their 
knees,  their  bare  feet  and  ankles  black  with  the  mud  in 
which  they  stood. 

All  along,  the  peasants  seemed  industrious  and  civil ;  all 
that  passed  us  greeted  us  with  a  "  bon  jour."  Many  were 
the  children  that  followed  us  with  cherries,  tumblers  of 
milk,  and  pieces  of  minerals  to  sell.  I  bought  a  dish  full  of 
nice  large  cherries,  and  to  gratify  a  little  boy's  importunity, 


23S  LETTERS. 

Mr.  D  bought  another:  but  \o  !  his,  like  many  other  things 
in  the  world,  turned  out  to  be  a  hoax,  for  only  those  at  the 
top  were  good  lor  any  thing.  The  women  and  girls  wear 
little  black  silk  caps,  with  a  frill  o(  black  lace  around  the 
front.  The  complexion  is  quite  fair,  and  most  of  the  peas- 
antry, particularly  the  children,  would  be  very  tine  looking, 
were  it  not  for  those  terrible  "  goitres,"  which  so  disfigure 
them.  The  women  in  going  to  and  from  the  tields,  and  the 
little  girls  tending  their  cows  and  goats,  all  had  their  knit- 
ting work  in  their  hands. 

At  St.  Martin's  we  left  our  carriage  and  took  another 
called  a  "  char  a  banc."'  Imagine  a  small,  low  carriage, 
somewhat  semicircular,  and  resembling  a  sofa  set  on  wheels, 
and  you  will  have  about  as  good  an  idea  of  this  carriage  as 
I  am  able  to  give  you.  There  is  but  one  seat,  so  that  we 
were  obliged  to  sit  sideways.  The  entrance  is  by  a  door  in 
the  side.  It  is  really  the  most  curious  looking  vehicle  I 
ever  saw  in  all  my  life.  There  is  no  seat  for  the  driver; 
he  rode  one  of  the  horses,  which  were  at  least  six  feet  ahead 
of  the  carriage.  He  was  dressed  in  a  short-tailed  black 
coat,  trimmed  with  red  and  yellow,  and  had  on  boots  which, 
after  approved  postilion  fashion,  came  up  over  his  knees. 

In  this  little  "  concern  "  we  three,  with  our  coats  and 
cloaks  and  carpet-bags  were  packed,  yes  literally  packed, 
for  it  required  no  little  calculation  and  fixing  to  get  stowed 
just  right.  Six  leagues  we  rode  in  this  thing,  jolted  and 
jammed  almost  beyond  endurance  ;  and  yet  we  could  not 
help  laughing  and  joking  at  each  other's  expense.  We 
amused  ourselves  with  wondering  how  our  worthy  relative, 

Mr.  ,  would  get  along  with  his  long  nether  extremities, 

till  we  finally  came  to  the  conclusion,  that  he  would  have  to 
put  them  through  the  door.  But  then  a  new  difl5culty  arose ; 
the  vehicle  was  so  low  thev  would  dandle  on  the  ground,  so 
the  only  way  that  we  could  fix  it  was,  that  he  would  be 
obliged  to  put  his  feet  on  moving  stilts. 

But  this  ride,  fatiguino-  as  it  was,   had   its  charms.     The 


LETTERS.  239 

scenery  was  wild  and  grand  beyond  description.  Mountains 
towered  above  us,  causing  our  eyes  to  ache  as  we  attempted 
to  scan  their  heights ;  mountains  frowning  with  "  dark  pine 
groves"  and  rocky  battlements;  mountains,  noisy  with  the 
babbling  brook  and  waterfall.  Numberless  cascades  dashed 
over  the  road,  making  it  dangerous  to  cross.  Nevertheless 
we  did  cross,  and  over  many  too,  for  I  counted  no  less  than 
thirteen  in  a  little  while.  I  saw  one  man  carrying  his 
bridge  on  his  back,  in  the  shape  of  a  plank,  which  when  he 
came  to  one  of  these  places,  he  put  across  the  stream, 
walked  over  on  it,  and  then  deliberately  shouldered  it  and 
went  onward. 

For  several  miles  our  way  led  up  steep  hills,  to  our  rrreat 
surprise,  as  we  were  under  the  impression  that  we  were 
going  to  a  valley  and  not  up  mountains.  To  add  to  the 
wildness  of  the  scene,  a  violent  storrn  came  on,  accompanied 
occasionally  by  a  peal  of  thunder,  which  echoed  and  re- 
echoed among  the  mountains,  hill  after  hill  repeating  the 
sound,  till  it  died  away  in  the  distance. 

As  we  drew  nearer  Chamouni,  which  is  three  thousand 
one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  we  be- 
gan to  see  the  glaciers.  How  splendidly  they  looked !  The 
whole  side  of  a  mountain  was  covered  with  these  seas  of  ice, 
or  frozen  cataracts,  frozen  in  the  very  act  of  plunging  down 
to  the  vales  beneath.  I  thought  a^ain  and  acrain  of  Rocrers' 
beautiful  lines,  so  descriptive  as  they  are  of  these  glaciers. 

*'  Wave  upon  wave  I  as  if  a  foaming  ocean, 
By  boisterous  winds  to  fierce  rebellion  driven, 
Heard  in  its  wildest  moment  of  commotion, 
And  stood  congealed  at  the  command  of  Heaven, 
Its  frantic  billows  chained  at  their  explosion. 
And  fixed  in  sculpture  ;  here  to  caverns  riven, 
There,  petrified  to  crystal — at  his  nod, 
Who  raised  the  Alps  an  altar  to  their  God  I  " 

Occasionally,  the  sun  would  break  out,  lighting  up  a  moun- 
tain top,  or  a  woody  glen ;  and  then  again  darkness  would 
gather  around,  and  the  rain  once  more  fall  in  torrents. 


240  LETTERS. 

At  length  we  arrived  at  the  Union  House  in  Chamouni, 
unwet,  unharmed,  save  sundry  aches  and  cramps,  arising 
from  our  jolting  and  jamming.  As  soon  as  we  got  in  the 
house,  we  eagerly  ran  to  a  window,  seeking  for  a  glimpse  of 
Mont  Blanc,  "the  monarch  of  mountains."  But  ah!  "the 
monarch  "  had  wrapped  himself  in  his  "  robe  of  clouds,"  and 
naught  was  to  be  seen,  not  even  his  "  diadem  of  snow." 

All  the  evening  the  rain  beat  against  the  windows.  "  Shall 
we  be  able  to  go  to-morrow  ?  "  was  the  oft  repeated  question, 
and  as  often  answered  by  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  a 
"  Je  ne  sais  pas,"  (I  do  not  know.)  However,  we  ordered 
breakfast  at  half  past  five,  and  requested  the  waiter  to  have 
a  guide  and  a  mule  for  Mr.  D.  at  the  door,  at  six.  As  for  J. 
and  myself,  we  determined  to  walk,  for  I  had  enough  of 
horseback  riding  at  Vesuvius.  The  waiter  assured  me  I 
could  walk  with  ease,  so  after  a  good  dinner,  though  amongst 
a  noisy  party  of  Germans  and  French,  I  went  to  bed,  and 
dreamed  of  the  pleasure  of  walking  up  the  mountains.  But 
morning  came,  dark  and  gloomy.  J.  rang  the  bell,  ordered 
breakfast  at  eight,  and  that  no  guide  should  be  sent  for. 
At  eight  the  prospect  still  seemed  dubious.  The  landlord 
was  consulted,  and  he  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  it  would  be 
"  a  bad  day,"  which  J.  was  disposed  to  receive  as  convincing  ; 
I  not,  as  I  knew  it  was  his  interest  to  keep  us  there  another 
day.  It  was  likely  to  rain,  for  when  does  it  not  rain  among 
the  mountains  ?  and  I  said  "  my  voice  is  still  for"  going; 
so  while  at  breakfast,  the  guide  was  sent  for,  but  to  my  great 
astonishment,  and  to  the  utter  annihilation  of  my  happy 
dreams,  our  landlord  said  it  was  by  no  means  advisable  for 
me  to  walk ;  it  was  too  far,  too  fatiguing,  too  wet,  and  I 
don't  know  how  many  more  "  too's,"  so  ride  I  must.  It  was 
with  fear  and  trembling  that  I  mounted  my  mule,  which  was 
quite  as  large  as  a  horse,  only  more  sure-footed  ;  but  the  mo- 
ment he  started,  I  started  too,  declaring  that  I  could  not  and 
would  not  ride,  and  so  off  I  jumped  much  quicker  than  I  got 
on.     I  walked  with  J.   and   the  guide's  little  son   across  a 


LETTERS.  241 

field,  while  Mr.  D.  and  the  guide  who  led  my  mule,  went 
around  the  road.  I  found  the  walk  in  the  field  very  wet,  and 
at  last  I  was  persuaded  to  mount  the  mule  once  more.  I 
had  a  saddle  somewhat  like  the  one  I  had  when  at  Vesuvius. 
Though  dreadfully  afraid  at  first,  I  soon  became  quite  com- 
posed, and  tried  to  divert  my  attention  with  looking  round 
and  talking  with  the  guide  who  led  my  mule.  He  was  a 
middle-aged  man,  strong  and  active.  He  spoke  French  with 
a  slight  provincial  idiom,  yet  I  made  out  to  understand  him 
quite  well.  He  has  been  guide  here  for  thirty  years,  having 
received  a  license  from  government,  and  during  the  months 
of  July  and  August  has  been  nearly  every  day  to  Montan- 
vert.  He  had  with  him  a  nice  little  boy,  only  eleven  years 
old,  whom  for  two  years  he  has  been  training  for  a  guide, 
causing  him  to  walk  eight,  ten,  and  sometimes  twelve  miles 
a  day.  What  an  education  is  that  for  a  boy !  Many  a  boy 
of  a  larger  growth,  in  our  cities  at  home,  would  shrink  from 
a  walk  of  half  that  distance. 

I  asked  the  guide  how  many  children  he  had.  He  seemed 
rather  shy  in  answering,  and  finally  said,  "  Oh,  many."  But 
I  persevered  in  asking  how  many.  He  said,  three  boys  and 
four  girls,  but  as  none  of  them  were  fools,  he  had  none  too 
many,  which  I  thought  was  a  philosophical  view  of  the  mat- 
ter. I  was  eager  to  know  about  the  winters  in  these  moun- 
tainous countries.  He  told  me  that  the  snow  began  to  fall 
in  September,  but  that  it  did  not  last  long  at  a  time,  but 
after  November  it  never  disappears  till  mid-spring.  The 
mountains  are  almost  impassable,  and  the  snow  lies  four  feet 
deep  in  the  valley. 

As  we  began  to  ascend,  contrary  to  all  predictions,  the 
sun  broke  forth,  and  the  mists  began  to  roll  away  beneath 
our  feet  and  from  the  mountain  sides.  Cloud  after  cloud 
rolled  up,  till  the  whole  valley  lay  slumbering  beneath  us 
How  lovely  !  The  white  houses  of  Chamouni  contrasted 
beautifully  with  the  green  fields  around.  The  Arve  and  the 
Arveiron,  which  take  their  rise  amid  the  glaciers,  dashed 
21 


242  LETTERS. 

noisily  by  us ;  the  mountains  lifted  their  craggy  summits 
around  us,  while  our  path  wound  up  and  up,  round  and 
round,  through  "pine  groves,"  filling  the  air  with  their 
"soft  and  soul-like  sounds;"  and  as  though  this  was  not 
music  enough  for  us,  the  roaring  of  the  rivers  fell  upon  our 
ears,  the  faint  jingling  of  the  cow-bells  stole  sweetly  upon  us, 
and,  added  to  all  this,  an  instrument,  like  several  trumpets, 
sent  its  rich  tones  through  the  valley,  now  dying  away,  now 
swelling  out  boldly,  each  hill  taking  up  and  echoing  the 
strain,  as  though  they  "  loved  to  prolong  the  gentle  sound." 
Children  were  driving  their  cows  and  goats  to  pasture,  the 
little  girls  having  their  knitting  work  in  their  hands.  It  was 
a  picture  of  loveliness,  of  grand  and  majestic  beauty,  seldom 
seen.  I  quite  forgot  the  stony  path  and  my  mule,  which  was 
patiently  threading  its  way  among  the  rocks  and  stones,  as  if 
to  rebuke  me  for  my  fears.  Even  in  this  barren  region  we 
passed  the  fringed  Gentian,  "  flowers  of  loveliest  blue," 
though  it  was  almost  the  only  sign  of  vegetation  around. 

After  two  hours  and  a  half,  we  reached  the  summit  of 
Montanvert,  and  came  close  upon  "  the  sea  of  ice,"  which 
stretched  for  miles  below  and  beside  us. 

At  a  house  here,  we  left  our  mules,  and  taking  our  moun- 
tain poles,  which  were  about  six  feet  long,  with  an  iron  spike 
at  the  end,  we  started  for  the  glaciers,  and  after  a  winding 
walk  of  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  stood  upon  "  the  sea  of  ice." 
This  I  dare  not  attempt  to  describe  to  you.  I  have  seen  it, 
and  the  recollection  of  it  will  never  leave  me  ;  but  one  must 
see  it  for  himself,  to  judge  of  its  overwhelming  sublimity. 
It  is  properly  named  a  "sea  of  ice,"  for  "a  sea"  it  is. 
"  Wave  on  wave  "  arises,  but  there  is  no  motion,  no  sound, 
no  roaring  of  the  waters.  The  waves  are  stilled  as  though 
in  their  maddest  plunge  they  heard  an  Almighty  voice,  say- 
ing, "  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come  and  no  farther,  and  here 
shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed,"  and  instantly  they  are 
stayed,  and  thus  they  remain  for  ages.  And  this  extends  not 
one  mile  or  two,  but  for  seventeen  leagues,  for  Montanvert 
is  a  part  of  the  range  of  Mont  Blanc. 


LETTERS.  243 

This  sea  of  ice  is  broken  in  all  directions  by  crevices,  one 
of  which  has  been  sounded,  and  found  to  be  three  hundred  and 
sixty  feet  deep.  We  jumped  over  several  of  these  chasms, 
some  a  foot  and  a  half  or  two  feet  wide.  Down  below  the 
surface,  the  ice  becomes  "  deeply,  beautifully  blue,"  and  far 
down  in  its  depths,  we  could  hear  the  faint  gurgling  sound  of 
water.  We  gazed  and  gazed  and  gazed  again,  loath  to  leave 
so  sublime  a  sight.  Coleridge  has  a  magnificent  description 
of  this  scene,  but  I  cannot  afford  room  to  quote  it.  No  one 
can  look  upon  these  glaciers  without  being  struck  with  their 
overpowering  sublimity ;  and  the  best  idea  one  can  get  of 
them  without  seeing  them  is,  by  imagining  the  ocean  when 
lashed  to  fury,  suddenly  stilled  and  frozen,  or  by  fancying  a 
foaming,  dashing  torrent,  bursting  down  a  mountain  side, 
congealed  while  in  the  act  of  taking  its  boldest  leap. 

We  returned  to  the  house,  and  after  taking  a  little  bread 
and  milk,  commenced  our  descent.  For  some  distance  I 
walked,  as  the  path  was  very  steep,  and  I  should  have  prefer- 
red to  have  walked  all  the  way,  but  I  was  afraid  my  strength 
would  not  hold  out.  I  no  sooner  mounted  than  I  repented 
me  of  my  decision,  for  the  descent  seemed  really  dangerous. 
Often  the  feet  of  the  mule  would  be  directly  on  the  brink  of 
a  precipice,  so  that  my  body  actually  hung  over  it,  and  the 
least  misstep  would  have  been  fatal ;  but  through  the  kind 
care  of  Him,  who  has  so  far  watched  over  me,  I  got  down  in 
safety. 

As  we  got  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  the  clouds  disap- 
peared from  Mont  Blanc,  and  we  saw  him,  though  but  for  a 
moment,  in  all  his  glory.  And  oh !  how  glorious  he  seemed, 
as  he  pierced  the  clouds  with  his  triple  head,  covered  with 
eternal  snow !  It  was  indeed  a  fit  footstool  for  Him  who 
makes  the  clouds  his  pavilion. 

How  we  longed  to  ascend  that  grand,  old  mountain,  but  it 
was  impossible.  But  few  travellers  have  ever  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  summit,  and  they  have  represented  the  danger 
and  fatigue  as  exceedingly  great,  being  obliged  to  walk  be- 


244  LETTERS. 

tween  forty  and  fifty  miles,  to  avoid  frightful  chasms  in  the 
glaciers,  and  having  to  sleep  all  night  in  the  open  air.  Be- 
sides all  these,  the  expense  is  equal  to  the  fatigue.  You  are 
obliged  to  have  four  or  five  guides,  and  each  guide  demands 
forty  francs  a  day.  Our  guide  went  up  with  an  English  gen- 
tleman, not  long  ago,  whose  only  boast  was  that  he  made  the 
trip  in  an  hour  less  than  any  other  traveller.  A  laudable 
ambition,  truly ! 

As  soon  as  we  returned  to  the  inn,  we  ordered  our  "  char 
a  banc "  to  be  got  ready  immediately,  and  while  we  were 
waiting  for  it,  Ave  went  into  a  shop  where  were  minerals 
from  the  neighborhood  for  sale.  Here  we  saw  a  chamois, 
and  a  beautiful  animal  it  is  too,  with  its  soft,  yet  bright  eyes. 
I  met  with  so  beautiful  a  description  of  this  wild  goat  of  the 
mountain,  that  I  think  you  will  pardon  me  for  quoting  it 
entire. 

"  Free  born  and  beautiful !     The  mountain 

Has  naught  like  ihee  ! 
Fleet  as  the  rub.h  of  Alpine  fountain, 

Fearless  and  free  ! 
Thy  dazzling  eye  outshines  in  brightness 

The  beam  of  hope  ; 
Thine  airy  bound  outstrips  the  lightness 

Of  antelope. 

"  On  cliffs  where  scarce  the  eagle's  pinion 

Can  find  repose, 
Thou  keepest  thy  desolate  dominion 

Of  trackless  snows. 
Thy  pride  to  roam  where  man's  ambition 

Could  never  climb, 
And  make  thy  world  a  dazzling  vision 

Of  Alps  sublime  ! 

"  How  glorious  are  the  dawns  that  waken  thee 

To  thy  repast ! 
And  where  their  fading  lights  forsake  thee, 

They  shine  the  last. 
Thy  clime  is  pure,  thy  heaven  clearer, 

Brighter  than  ours. 
To  thee  the  desert  snows  are  dearer 

Than  summer  flowers." 


LETTERS.  245 

We  returned  to  St.  Martin's  by  the  Baths  of  St.  Gervais. 
The  first  part  of  the  way  was  the  same  as  that  by  which  we 
went  to  Chamouni,  Tuesday  evening  ;  but  after  we  turned 
towards  St.  Gervais,  the  mountains  became  if  possible  still 
more  wild  and  grand.  In  the  midst  of  this  vast  solitude  is 
an  immense  hotel,  where  two  or  three  hundred  invalids  can 
be  accommodated,  the  springs  in  the  neighborhood  beino- 
considered  efficacious  in  rheumatic  and  chronic  affections. 
The  water  is  warm  and  is  strongly  impregnated  with  sulphur- 
ous matter.  It  is  conduc  ^d  by  pipes  into  bathing  rooms, 
the  water  being  used  for  bathing  as  well  as  drinking.  Just 
back  of  the  hotel  is  a  splendid  cascade,  which  seems  to 
spring  immediately  out  of  the  rocks.  It  has  about  "  the 
greatest  water  power,"  as  the  manufacturers  would  express 
it,  of  any  that  we  have  yet  seen.  The  water  dashes  down 
in  fury,  leaping  and  jumping  along,  even  after  it  is  in  the 
valley.  It  is  fed  by  the  snow  from  Mont  Blanc.  Every 
thing  about  the  establishment  at  St.  Gervais,  looked  nice 
and  comfortable.  In  the  dining  hall  a  table  was  spread  for 
eighty-six  persons ;  at  each  plate  was  a  decanter  of  the 
mineral  water.  In  another  room  were  card  and  billiard 
tables,  and  out  of  this  was  an  enormous  parlor,  handsomely 
furnished  and  well  supplied  with  newspapers,  and  in  this  se- 
cluded spot  we  read  the  latest  American  news. 

The  ride  to  St.  Martin's  was  delightful.  The  wildness 
of  the  scenery  suddenly  disappeared,  smiling  fields,  covered 
with  grass  and  grain,  backed  by  green  mountains,  varied 
the  scene.  Soon  after  leaving  St.  Gervais,  we  chanced  to 
turn  our  heads,  when  a  sudden  exclamation  burst  from  us  of 
"Mont  Blanc,  Mont  Blanc!"  Yes;  there  it  was,  more 
grand  and  beautiful  than  we  had  before  seen  it.  For  an 
hour  we  saw  it  lifting  up  its  snowy  summit,  tinged  by  the 
rays  of  the  declining  sun,  till  it  seemed  a  cloud  of  fire.  It 
looked  as  though  it  had  power  to  stay  the  sun,  so  long  as 
he  seemed  to  hover  o'er  his  whitened  head,  so  lovingly  he 
lingered  there.  We  looked  and  looked,  determined  to  feast 
oi* 


246  LETTERS. 

our  eyes  with  gazing,  while  the  mount  was  in  sight.  The 
farther  we  went  from  it,  the  more  distinct  it  grew,  till  the 
whole  of  the  three  peaks  came  in  view.  By  and  by  the  red 
tints  faded  away,  and  then  it  became  so  white,  so  pale,  that 
it  seemed  still  more  shadowy,  more  sublime.  Contrasted 
with  the  green  summits  around,  it  lifted  its  hoary  head  to 
the  clouds,  piercing  "  them  as  with  a  wedge."  Still  it  fol- 
lowed us,  till  we  reached  St.  Martin's,  and  as  I  ascended  to 
my  room,  and  stood  by  my  window,  there  it  was  looking  as 
pure  as  ever.  And  when  I  laid  my  wearied  limbs  on  my 
bed,  and  long  after  my  eyes  were  closed  in  sleep,  it  kept  its 
solitary  watch,  as  though  it  was  a  signal  light  set  there  by 
Him,  who  bringeth  out  the  stars,  and  calleth  them  all  by 
their  names. 

We  left  St.  Martin's  quite  early  this  morning,  and  right 
glad  were  we  to  get  into  a  carriage  where  we  had  space 
enough  for  our  feet.  The  morning  was  excessively  cold, 
quite  as  much  so  as  it  is  with  us  in  December,  though  it 
grew  milder  as  the  sun  came  up,  and  we  got  farther  down  in 
the  valley.  We  had  grand  views  of  Mont  Blanc,  and  many 
a  "longing,  lingering  look,"  we  turned  to  get  the  last  view. 
Cold  as  it  was,  we  had  the  carriage  top  down,  as  long  as 
"  the  monarch  of  mountains"  was  in  sight.  It  is  very  sel- 
dom that  travellers  who  stay  but  a  few  days  in  the  neighbor- 
hood get  such  glimpses  of  "  sovran  Blanc,"  as  we  were 
favored  with. 

I  felt  completely  exhausted  when  we  arrived  here,  though 
while  on  the  way  I  was  so  excited  by  the  grandeur  of  the 
scenes,  that  I  was  not  aware  how  far  I  was  taxing  my 
strength.  But  I  doubt  not  a  night's  gccd  rest  will  completely 
restore  me.     Good  night. 


LETTERS.  247 


Thun,  July  14th. 
My  dear  F.  : 

We  have  been  so  busy  since  I  last  wrote,  that  I  have  had 
no  time  to  write  to  you,  so  now  you  must  let  me  give  my 
record  of  the  past,  in  somewhat  of  a  journal  form.  Our 
journey  on  Friday  was  from  Geneva  to  Lausanne,  through 
a  rich  and  smiling  country,  among  orchards  and  vineyards. 
We  passed  by  the  largest  vineyard  we  have  yet  seen.  It 
was  on  the  side  of  a  mountain,  and  extended  three  miles  in 
length.  Y/e  passed  through  pretty  little  villages,  and  by 
beautiful  country  seats. 

Lausanne  is  situated  on  the  slope  of  a  mountain,  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  Lake  of  Geneva.  We  stopped  at  the 
"  Hotel  de  Gibbon,"  a  new  hotel,  in  fact  an  enlargement  of 
the  very  house  in  which  Gibbon  wrote  his  Roman  history. 
Our  rooms  commanded  a  fine  view  of  the  lake. 

A  ride  of  twelve  hours  took  us  to  Fribourg.  The  whole 
of  the  day  it  rained  "  pouring,"  but  the  country  people 
whom  we  met  on  their  way  to  and  from  market,  did  not 
seem  to  mind  the  rain  any  more  than  we  did.  The  country 
was  very  fertile,  we  did  not  see  one  barren  spot  during  the 
whole  distance. 

Fribourg  is  romantically  situated  on  both  sides  of  a  small 
river,  which  runs  between  high  banks,  in  many  places  almost 
perpendicular.  There  are  several  bridges  thrown  over  the 
stream.  In  many  places  the  banks  are  so  steep,  that  one  is 
obliged  to  descend  by  means  of  steps  and  ladders. 

Among  the  bridges  over  the  river  are  two  suspension 
bridges,  one  of  which  is  the  longest  bridge  of  the  kind  in  the 
world.  It  is  nine  hundred  and  five  feet  long,  twenty-eight 
wide,  and  is  one  hundred  and  seventy-four  feet  above 
the  surface  of  the  water.  It  is  suspended  on  four  cables  of 
iron  wire,  each  containing  one  thousand  and  fifty-six  wires, 
the  united  strength  of  which  is  capable  of  supporting  four 
times  the  weicrht  which  it  will  ever  be  likely  to  bear,  or  three 


248  LETTERS. 

times  the  weight  of  two  rows  of  wagons  extending  entirely 
r cross  it.  The  cables  enter  the  earth  obliquely  on  either 
side  of  the  bridge,  and  extend  some  ways  under  ground. 
The  materials  are  almost  entirely  Swiss,  the  workmen,  with 
the  exception  of  one  man,  were  natives  who  had  never  seen 
such  a  bridge  before.  It  was  completed  in  three  years,  and 
cost  six  hundred  thousand  francs.  Its  strength  was  proved 
by  the  following  means.  One  hundred  and  fifty  pieces  of 
artillery,  drawn  by  fifty  horses,  and  accompanied  by  three 
hundred  people,  collected  in  as  compact  a  body  as  possible, 
passed  over,  and  no  sensible  oscillation  was  produced.  A 
few  days  afterwards,  the  bishop  and  authorities  of  the  town, 
accompanied  by  two  thousand  persons,  passed  over  it  twice 
in  procession,  with  a  military  band  keeping  step,  and  then  a 
slight  trembling  of  the  bridge  was  perceived. 

On  Sunday  morning  we  attended  service  in  the  Cathedral. 
As  soon  as  we  entered  we  were  aware  that  a  change  had 
come  over  the  aspect  of  affairs,  that  we  were  no  longer  in 
papal  France  or  Italy.  Seats  were  arranged  across  the 
church,  and  as  we  slowly  walked  up  the  aisle,  a  soldier  came 
to  us  and  respectfully  asked  us  to  seat  ourselves.  I  could 
understand  nothing  of  the  service,  but  it  was  conducted  with 
much  solemnity  and  decency.  One  priest  went  around  with 
some  bread,  and  another  wearing  a  splendid  fur  mantle,  with 
a  contribution  plate. 

We  heard  some  grand  music,  from,  some  say,  the  most 
magnificent  organ  in  the  world.  It  was  played  but  little 
during  the  service,  but  after  the  congregation  had  retired, 
the  organist  played  for  our  gratification,  our  hotel  keeper 
having  sent  him  word  that  there  were  some  strangers  in  the 
church  who  would  like  to  hear  the  organ.  Now  think  not  in 
the  simplicity  of  your  heart,  that  the  organist  was  actuated 
by  a  pardonable  wish  to  exhibit  his  own  powers,  or  those 
of  the  instrument.  Far  from  it.  He  demands  as  his  fee  for 
extra  playing  eleven  francs,  but  where  there  are  several  per- 
sons, it  makes  but   a  small  sum  for  each  to  give.     For  our 


LETTERS.  249 

own  part  we  paid  our  proportion  very  cheerfally,  for  never 
before  did  we  hear  such  music,  and  scarcely  may  we  ever 
expect  to  again.  Outwardly  it  is  a  beautiful  instrument,  and 
the  power  and  variety  of  its  tones  are  unequalled.  Several 
different  pieces  were  played ;  one  represented  so  perfectly  a 
choir  singing,  that  J.  insisted  upon  it  that  there  must  be  per- 
sons sinofincr  in  the  gfallery,  though  not  an  individual  but  the 
organist  was  to  be  seen.  All  the  parts  were  distinctly  heard, 
from  the  deep  tones  of  the  bass,  to  the  soft,  clear  notes  of  a 
female  voice.  Yes,  and  it  seemed  even  as  though  we  could 
hear  the  words,  so  perfect  was  the  resemblance.  Then 
came  a  tempest.  I  actually  held  my  breath,  and  fancied  that 
I  could  hear  the  rain  beating  against  the  windows,  and  the 
wind  howling,  while  the  thunder  rolled  over  our  heads  and 
shook  the  church.  Instinctively  we  turned  towards  the 
window,  to  see  if  there  had  been  any  change  in  the  weather 
since  we  entered  the  church,  as  it  was  then  bright  sunshine. 

Then  came  a  heavy  clap  of  thunder,  which  broke  directly 
over  our  heads.  We  started  from  our  seats  in  dismay,  and 
saw  around  us  the  frightened  looks  of  our  company.  It  was 
sublime  music.  How  much  I  wished  that  some  of  our 
musical  friends  in  P ,  could  have  heard  it. 

The  organ  was  built  by  Mosser,  a  citizen  of  Fribourg. 
It  has  sixty-four  stops,  and  seven  thousand  eight  hundred 
pipes,  some  of  them  thirty-two  feet  long. 

Our  next  stopping  place  was  Berne.  We  approached  the 
city  by  a  road  lined  with  trees,  and  through  gates,  guarded 
by  two  large  bears,  which,  by  the  way,  are  the  arms  of  the 
city.  The  streets  run  parallel  to  each  other,  and  are  quite 
wide  and  clean.  Through  the  three  principal  streets  runs 
a  little  stream  of  water,  about  two  feet  wide,  walled  in  on 
both  sides,  and  in  two  of  the  streets  covered  over  on  the 
top.  In  some  of  the  streets  there  were  fountains,  in  the 
basins  of  which  the  Bernese  women  were  washing  clothes, 
vegetables,  tubs,  &/C.  Nor  were  infants  wanting  to  vary  the 
.scene.    They  lay  in  their  little  cradles  around  the  fountains, 


250  LETTERS. 

and  were  apparently  accustomed  to  this  out-door  living,  as  I 
heard  no  crying  from  any. 

Of  all  costumes  that  I  have  yet  seen,  (for  each  canton 
has  its  peculiar  costume,)  that  of  Berne  is  the  most  singular, 
and  well  deserves  a  lengthened  description.  The  skirt  is 
of  any  color  one  chooses,  and  is  generally  bound  around 
the  bottom  with  red,  the  waist  and  sleeves  are  white,  the 
waist  high  in  front.  Over  this  is  worn  a  black  bodice,  low 
in  front,  but  high  and  narrow  behind.  The  sleeves  are  of 
moderate  size,  and  begin  at  the  top  of  the  shoulder.  From 
the  elbow  to  the  wrists,  cuffs  are  worn  of  colored  cambric 
or  calico.  But  the  head-dress  exceeds  the  whole.  It  is  a 
cap  of  black  lace,  silk,  or  velvet,  with  a  border  in  front  of 
black  lace,  fall  a  quarter  of  a  yard  wide.  In  some  cases, 
this  is  plaited  and  starched  stiff,  and  stands  up  straight  from 
the  forehead ;  in  others  it  is  free  from  all  stiffness,  and  falls 
like  a  veil  over  the  upper  part  of  the  face.  In  either  case 
it  has  rather  a  grotesque  appearance. 

The  houses  are  built  on  arches  like  those  of  Bologna, 
but  far  superior,  the  pillars  being  altogether  of  stone.  The 
shops  are  fine,  and  many  of  the  houses  would  not  dishonor 
Paris.  The  greatest  curiosity  to  us,  was  a  clock  in  a  small 
tower  in  one  of  the  principal  streets.  As  I  never  before 
saw  any  thing  of  that  kind,  you  will  pardon  me  for  giving 
it  considerable  attention.  In  a  niche  near  the  face  of  the 
clock,  is  a  large  fellow  dressed  like  a  Turk,  seated  in  a 
chair,  and  holding  in  one  hand  an  hourglass,  and  in  the 
other  a  little  sceptre.  Over  his  head  is  another  figure, 
holdinof  in  his  hand  a  club  :  over  each  of  his  shoulders 
hangs  a  small  bell.  Beneath  the  old  Turk  is  a  procession 
of  small  figures,  among  which  are  an  elephant,  a  donkey, 
and  a  man  on  horseback.  On  one  side  of  the  Turk  is  a 
small  *'  rooster,"  which  just  before  the  clock  strikes,  claps 
its  wings  and  crows,  the  little  figures  then  walking  round, 
each  one  disappearing  within  the  building,  and  re-appearing 
in  its  turn,  till  the  whole  have  been  round,  and  come  back 


LETTERS.  251 

to  their  usual  places.  While  this  is  going  on,  the  figure  on 
top  strikes  with  his  club,  first  one  bell,  and  then  the  other, 
till  the  hour  is  counted,  moving  first  one  leg  and  then  the 
other,  at  each  stroke.  Then  the  crower  claps  his  wings  and 
crows  again,  and  the  Turk  turns  the  hourglass  in  his  hand, 
and  with  his  little  sceptre  keeping  time,  counts  the  hours, 
his  lips  moving,  and  his  mouth  opening  at  each  number. 
Once  more  a  "  crow"  is  given,  and  then  the  whole  perform- 
ance was  ended.  As  it  was  twelve  o'clock  when  we  were 
there,  we  had  a  fine  opportunity  to  see  it.  How  complicated 
must  be  the  machinery  for  moving  all  these  figures.  We 
were  anxious  to  get  inside  to  see  it,  but  the  man  who  has 
charge  of  it  was  not  to  be  found. 

We  next  turned  our  steps  museum-ward,  passing  by  the 
cathedral,  a  handsome  stone  edifice  in  the  true  Gothic  style, 
and  stopping  at  a  fine  promenade  shaded  with  large  walnut 
trees.  At  a  distance  one  hundred  feet  below  us,  flowed  the 
river  Aar,  which  runs  through  a  part  of  the  town.  To  our 
regret  we  found  the  museum  closed,  so  we  strolled  leisurely 
along  on  our  homeward  way. 

We  are  now  at  Thun,  a  picturesque  little  village,  on  the 
lake  of  the  same  name  and  on  the  river  Aar.  We  stop  at 
the  Hotel  Bellevue,  which  stands  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful 
garden.  We  chose  an  upper  room,  that  we  might  see  the 
lake  and  the  surrounding  country  at  our  pleasure.  As  soon 
as  we  deposited  our  boxes  and  bundles,  enlarged  by  collec- 
tions of  minerals  and  dried  flowers,  we  started  off  for  a 
walk.  We  went  by  a  narrow  path  up  a  high  hill  to  a  little 
pavilion.  It  was  a  delightful  walk,  under  large  trees  which 
shaded  us  from  the  sun,  while  the  birds  carolled  blithely 
over  our  heads.  We  wound  round  and  round,  now  up  a 
steep  path,  now  up  long  flights  of  steps,  and  then  coming  to 
an  open  place  where  we  had  glimpses  of  the  scene  below, 
till  we  reached  the  pavilion.  What  a  scene  was  there  spread 
out  before  us !  No  picture  ever  equalled  it.  The  little  lake 
with  its  clear  blue  waters,  surrounded   by  mountains,  some 


252  LETTERS. 

bare  and  craggy,  some  green  and  fertile,  and  others  far  in 
the  distance,  lifting  up  their  icy  heads  above  the  clouds  ; 
meadows,  the  light  green  of  which  contrasted  so  well  with 
the  dark  green  of  the  trees,  thickly  spread  over  them,  the 
willows  and  the  poplars  planted  by  the  lake  side,  the  white 
houses  peeping  out  in  every  direction,  the  meandering  Aar, 
its  sparkling  waters  seen,  now  here,  now  there,  the  pic- 
turesque village  with  its  high,  dark  roofs,  these  all,  seen 
under  a  brilliant  sky,  by  the  crimson  glow  of  the  setting 
sun,  presented  a  scene  fairer  than  ever  dream  pictured. 
Then  came  rich  music  borne  on  the  breeze,  now  swelling 
out,  now  gently  dying  away,  till  the  sweet  sounds  were  no 
longer  heard.  We  were  enchanted,  and  could  have  staid 
there  hours,  and  we  thought  all  our  labors  and  fatigues  were 
amply  repaid  by  a  scene  so  lovely. 

Yesterday  we  went  on  board  the  little  steamer  that  plies 
on  the  lake,  and  made  the  usual  excursion  to  the  end  of  the 
lake,  and  back  again  in  the  afternoon.  The  boat  was  full  of 
tourists,  the  most  of  which  were  English.  In  fact,  the  hotels 
are  full  of  English  people  every  summer  ;  no  less  than  four- 
teen families  are  boarding  at  our  hotel.  Their  expenses  are 
six  francs  a  day  for  each  person.  There  are  five  different 
houses  connected  with  the  Hotel  Belle vue,  all  of  which  are 
full.  The  accommodations  are  good,  the  table  excellent,  and 
the  waiters  all  speak  English.  Indeed,  we  have  met  with 
more  persons  who  speak  English,  since  we  have  been  in 
Switzerland,  than  in  all  the  rest  of  our  travels. 

But  to  the  lake.  It  is  about  ten  miles  long,  and  is  encir- 
cled by  mountains,  some  almost  perpendicular,  presenting  to 
the  eye  naught  but  bare  rocks  ;  others  are  covered  with  trees 
and  shrubs,  while  others  still  slope  gently  down,  their  sides 
clothed  with  goodly  pastures. 

When  we  landed  we  took  a  carriage  and  rode  several 
miles  to  the  Falls  of  Stubbach.  We  passed  through  the  vil- 
lage of  Undersee,  the  funniest  looking  place  I  ever  saw. 
The  houses  look  as  though  built  in  the  year  one.     They  are 


LETTERS.  253 

black,  and  have  high  roofs,  projecting  several  feet  over  the 
sides  and  front.  There  are  no  chimneys,  but  the  smoke 
comes  out  of  an  aperture  in  the  side. 

Adjoining  this  is  the  village  of  Interlachen,  so  called  be- 
cause it  lies  between  two  lakes.  It  consists  of  but  one  street 
about  a  mile  in  length,  shaded  with  large  trees.  The  houses 
are  filled  with  English  boarders.  In  fact,  the  village  is  called 
an  English  colony.  From  this  place  to  the  falls,  the  country 
was  wild  and  grand.  Our  road  lay  through  a  narrow  valley, 
beside  a  babbling  stream,  overhung  with  lofty  mountains, 
cataracts  every  where  leaping  down  their  sides.  But  why 
should  I  repeat  what  I  have  said  a  dozen  times  ?  All  these 
are  the  characteristics  of  mountain  scenery.  This  cascade 
falls  about  eight  or  nine  hundred  feet,  and  I  am  almost  ready 
to  say,  that  it  is  the  most  beautiful  fall  we  have  yet  seen. 
The  water  floats  gently  down  in  sheets  of  spray.  It  comes 
over  the  rocky  side  of  the  mountain,  which  is  almost  perpen- 
dicular. It  is  really  astonishing  to  stand  beneath  and  look 
up ;  it  seems  as  though  a  cloud  were  falling  from  on  high. 

Two  peasant  girls  sang  very  prettily  for  us,  while  we  were 
at  the  falls.  They  had  light  hair,  turned  back  from  their 
foreheads,  and  braided  down  behind. 

On  our  return  to  the  boat  it  began  to  rain,  as  usual.  Who 
ever  spent  a  day  among  the  mountains  without  seeing  rain  ? 
After  we  came  back  to  the  boat,  there  was  such  a  violent 
shower  that  we  were  obliged  to  betake  ourselves  to  the  cabin. 
It  lasted,  however,  thanks  to  the  changeableness  of  the  cli- 
mate, but  a  short  time,  and  soon  a  beautiful  rainbow  appear- 
ed, which  we  hailed  as  the  blessed  sign  of  promise. 

After  dinner,  we  strolled  out  through  the  village,  and 
crossed  over  two  or  three  bridges  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
lake,  and  wandered  along  its  margin,  beneath  the  drooping 
willows.  It  is  a  charming  spot,  this  little  village  and  its  envi- 
rons, and  we  should  much  like  to  stay  here  some  time,  but 
the  traveller  must  take  ''onward"  for  his  mctto.  And  so 
22 


254  LETTERS. 

we  leave  Thun  and  its  lovely  lake,  and  hereafter  they  must 
be  to  us  as  the  "  things  that  have  been." 

Once  more  we  are  on  the  move.  The  trunk  and  bags 
have  disappeared,  and  I  am  wanted ;  so  in  great  haste  I  quit 
you. 


Rheinfall,  Saturday. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

Through  richly  varied  landscapes,  and  by  short  and  easy 
stages,  we  have  reached  this  place.  Our  attention  has  been  all 
absorbed  by  the  scenes  through  which  we  have  passed.  True, 
we  miss  the  magnificent  works  of  art  of  Italy,  but  after  all, 
is  not  nature  superior  to  art?  If  the  other  parts  of  Switzer- 
land be  like  what  we  have  seen,  since  we  entered  her  bor- 
ders, I  marvel  not  that  her  children  love  her.  I  have  often 
thought  of  what  one  of  our  steerage  passengers  in  the  Bur- 
gundy said  to  me  in  Havre.  "  Oh,"  said  he,  '*  in  a  few  days 
I  shall  see  Switzerland,  my  beloved  Switzerland,  with  its 
high  mountains  and  green  vales !  Oh,  I  can't  find  words  to 
express  my  joy  !"  And  his  eye  kindled,  and  his  cheek  glowed 
as  he  spoke.  A  young  physician  told  me  that  when  he  re- 
turned to  his  native  land,  after  studying  two  years  in  Paris, 
his  joy  was  so  great  on  once  more  seeing  that  dear  Switzer- 
land, that  as  soon  as  he  had  passed  the  frontiers,  he  threw 
himself  upon  the  ground  and  kissed  the  earth,  saying  with 
tears,  "  Oh,  my  native  soil,  do  I  see  thee  once  more  ? "  Thus 
it  seems  with  all  the  Swiss;  their  love  for  home  is  proverbial, 
and  surely  if  ever  there  were  scenes  calculated  to  win  and  to 
fix  love,  they  are  to  be  found  in  Switzerland.  Would  you 
seek  the  lofty  and  sublime?  Survey  her  everlasting  hills, 
climb  her  snow-capped  mountains,  view  her  fields  of  ice,  her 
frozen  torrents,  her  silent  cataracts;  wander  through  her 
wild  ravines  and  mountain  gorges,  and  look  (for  there  you 
cannot  go,  there  naught  but  the  wild  goat  strays,)  up  her 


LETTERS.  255 

shelving  rocks  and  craggy  precipices.  Do  you  long  after 
the  soft  and  beautiful  ?  Roam  over  her  bright  fields,  beneath 
her  green  trees,  by  her  quiet  lakes,  midst  her  happy  peasants, 
and  say  if  your  heart  is  not  content  with  the  glorious  scenes 
spread  out  before  you. 

But  to  return  to  our  journey  hither.  We  were  at  Luzerne 
on  Thursday,  but  it  rained  all  the  time  we  were  there,  so 
we  saw  nothing  of  the  town  nor  of  the  lake,  except  a  little 
spot  that  could  be  seen  from  the  windows  of  the  hotel.  We 
intended  ascending  the  Rhigi  mountain  in  the  afternoon,  and 
sleeping  on  its  summit  that  night,  in  order  to  get  the  sunrise 
view  from  that  elevated  spot,  said  to  be  unrivalled.  But 
after  waiting  till  two  o'clock,  we  decided  that  it  was  altogeth- 
er too  stormy  to  undertake  such  a  trip,  so  we  gave  up  the  at- 
tempt. It  was  the  first  time  since  we  commenced  our  trav- 
els, that  we  were  hindered  by  the  weather  from  undertaking 
any  excursion  on  which  we  had  previously  fixed. 

We  stayed  that  night  at  a  small  inn  at  Knonou,  a  little 
village,  but  where  we  had  most  excellent  accommodations. 
In  fact,  all  the  inns  in  Switzerland  are  conducted  on  the 
best  plan,  and  every  thing  is  nice  and  clean.  From  my 
window  at  Knonou,  I  was  amused  by  watching  the  prepara- 
tions going  on  for  our  dinner.  When  I  saw  a  man  going 
towards  a  little  stream  with  his  rod  and  fishing  apparatus, 
I  began  to  despair,  and  thought  that  if  he  had  no  better 
luck  than  some  of  our  amateur  fishermen  at  home,  we  might 
have  to  wait  a  long  time  for  our  dinner.  But  soon  he  re- 
turned with  a  fine  large  trout,  and  I  was  forced  to  confess 
that  either  he  had  more  skill,  or  that  the  fish  were  more 
easily  caught  than  with  us.  Various  were  the  goings  to  and 
from  a  store-room  opposite  the  window,  and  diverse  were 
the  articles  brought  therefrom.  Soon  a  faint  cackling  was 
heard,  which  suddenly  ceased,  proclaiming  that  there  was 
one  chicken  the  less  in  the  world.  Then  there  were  wafted 
to  my  olfactory  nerves,  sundry  smells,  which  declared  in 
tones,   (no,  I  mean   odors,)   not  to  be  mistaken,  that  fish. 


256  LETTERS. 

l)eef,  and  fowl,  were  in  different  stages  of  cooking.  I,  then 
being  no  longer  in  doubt  about  my  dinner,  joined  the  gentle- 
men below.  On  entering  the  room,  how  surprised  and 
pleased  was  I  to  see  it  hung  around  with  views  of  our  own 
goodly  city  of  Philadelphia.  AVhen  the  waiter  (who  I  after- 
wards found  was  the  master  of  the  house  himself)  came  in 
to  prepare  for  dinner,  I  asked  him  where  he  got  those  en- 
gravings. He  told  me  they  were  sent  to  him  by  a  brother 
who  hud  been  ten  years  in  Philadelphia.  I  sent  for  Fran- 
cesco to  come  in,  and  then  explained  the  dirterent  views, 
pouring  into  their  greedy  ears  more  information  concerning 
that  city  and  our  own  country,  than  they  probably  ever 
heard  before.  They  were  particularly  interested  in  the  ac- 
count of  the  institution  for  the  blind,  and  seemed  as  if  thun- 
derstruck when  I  told  them  there  was  a  way  invented  to 
teach  them  to  read.  Then  I  told  them  of  the  deaf  and 
dumb,  and  of  that  prodigy,  Julia  Brace,  the  deaf,  dumb, 
and  blind  girl,  which  account  they  often  interrupted  with 
various  expressions  of  surprise,  wonder  and  admiration.  I 
talked  nearly  an  hour,  (you  know  I  am  fiimous  for  long  sto- 
ries), till  I  exhausted  all  my  French,  explained  all  the  en- 
gravings, and  whiled  away  the  time  till  dinner  was  ready. 
The  lecture  on  the  arts  and  sciences  of  America  being  fin- 
ished, I  sat  down  to  my  dinner  with  what  dear used  to 

call  a  '*  ferocious  appetite." 

On  Friday  noon  we  reached  Zurich.  From  Thun  there 
the  country  was  pleasant  and  interesting,  but  the  road  was 
bad.  The  hills  assumed  a  less  bold  and  prominent  appear- 
ance, and  sloped  gently  away,  covered  with  pine  woods, 
verdant  pastures  and  extensive  vineyards. 

Zurich  is  beautifully  situated  on  a  lake  of  the  same  name. 
It  is  a  large  town,  and  has  considerable  business.  There 
are  some  fine  looking  houses.  We  went  to  the  church 
where  Zuinglius,  the  reformer,  formerly  preached,  but  we 
could  not  get  in.  We  visited  the  public  library,  which 
contains  sixty  thousand  volumes.     Here  were  busts  of  La- 


LETTERS.  257 

vatcr,  Pcstalozzi,  and  Hush,  and  portraits  of  Zjiintrlius  and 
his  daughter,  of  BuHcnarius,  tutor  to  I^ady  Jane  Grey,  and 
of  sev(;ral  of  th(;  reformers  ;  also  manuscript  l(;tters  in  Latin 
from  Lady  Jane  (irey  to  her  tutor,  written  in  a  clear  liand, 
and  doubtless  in  very  good  Latin,  thougJi  I  did  not  take 
mucli  notice  of  that,  as  I  left  that  language  behind  me  when 
I  left  school. 

After  dinner  we  took  a  walk  to  apart  of  the  old  ramparts, 
which  is  a  fnie  promenade,  planted  with  trees,  and  com- 
ujanding  an  extensive  view  of  the  towri  and  the  adjoining 
country,  of  the  lake;  and  th(^  rtiountains  around.  There  we 
ling(!red  an  hour,  watching  th(;  last  movements  of  the  declin- 
ing sun,  and  the  changing  shadows  flitting  over  "  fair  Zu- 
rich's waters,"  now  lighting  th(;m  up,  now  casting  a  veil 
over  their  charms.  How  prettily  looked  the  little  villages, 
studded  along  the  hanks,  with  their  clust(trs  of  white  houses, 
and  their  litth;  sj)ir(!s  pointing  u[>ward  !  And  long  after  the 
valley  was  cast  into  shade,  the  snow-capped  suimnits  of  the 
distant  mountains  were  crimsoned  with  the  parting  beams 
of  the  god  of  day. 

For  the  last  two  days  we  have  been  in  cantons,  where 
German  is  altogether  spoken,  and  such  a  jablxiring  of  hard 
words!  I  think  it  almost  equals  the  Russian.  The  houses 
are  the  queerest  looking  things  you  can  imagine.  All  have 
the  gabh'  ends  towards  the  road,  and  the  roof  projects  (jight 
or  ten  feet  over  the  front  and  the  sides.  Between  the  differ- 
ent stories,  galleries  run  across  the  front,  and  the  whole 
space  between  them  is  fdled  with  windows.  A  portion  of 
the  house  is  duly  set  apart  fcir  the  horses,  cows,  and  pigs, 
while  the  hens  and  chickens  are  often  seen  peeping  out  of 
the  garret  windows.  There  is  invariably  a  large  heap  of 
manure  in  front  of  the  house,  which,  howevcT  much  it  may 
contribute  to  the  health  and  cleanliness  of  the  iidiabitants, 
is  not  remarkably  agreeable  to  the  passers  by. 

Between  Zurich   and   this  place,  we  saw  whole   fields  of 
poppies  raised  for  the  rrianufacturc  of  oi)ium.      In  this  vicin- 
22* 


258  LETTERS. 

ity  the  houses  are  equally  unique  with  those  we  have  before 
seen.  They  are  plastered  on  the  outside  only  between  the 
beams,  which  are  left  bare,  and  painted  blue,  red,  or  brown, 
making  a  house  look  as  if  it  was  covered  with  patchwork, 
and  as  though  the  rain  had  washed  down  from  the  roofs  in 
streaks,  now  touching  here,  now  there. 

And  of  all  people  to  smoke,  I  think  these  German  Swiss 
exceed  all.  I  rather  "guess"  they  go  ahead  of  some  of 
our  smokers  at  home.  Not  a  man  do  we  meet  without  a 
pipe  in  his  mouth,  not  such  as  our  grandfathers  used,  but 
pipes  two  or  three  feet  long.  Whether  any  of  the  feminine 
gender  smoke  or  not,  I  can't  tell ;  I  have  not  yet  seen  any. 

As  we  neared  this  place,  the  roaring  that  we  heard  pro- 
claimed the  immediate  proximity  of  the  falls  of  the  Rhine, 
[nstead  of  stopping  at  Schaffhausen,  as  most  travellers  do, 
we  came  on  to  this  little  village,  which  is  much  the  nearest 
to  the  falls.  As  soon  as  we  selected  our  rooms,  and  ordered 
our  dinner,  we  went  out  on  an  "  exploring  expedition."  At 
the  foot  of  the  falls  the  river  makes  a  bend  ;  around  this  is  a 
pretty  walk,  and  from  this  spot  we  took  our  first  sight  of  the 
falls.  The  view  here  is  very  fine,  the  falls  being  directly 
before  you.  The  river  leaps,  not  over  a  perpendicular  pre- 
cipice, but  over  a  gentle  slope,  a  distance  of  eighty  feet. 
The  width  is  between  six  and  seven  hundred  feet,  but  at 
different  intervals,  dark  rocks  rise  up  which  break  the  fall, 
so  that  there  seem  to  be  two  or  three  separate  falls.  The 
waters  are  perfectly  white  with  foam,  and  the  spray  rises  up 
and  dances  about  like  fairy  forms.  The  hills  around  are 
not  very  high;  one  rises  almost  perpendicularly  from  the 
river,  but  the  sides  of  the  others  are  covered  with  vineyards, 
and  dotted  with  houses. 

We  crossed  the  river  below  the  bend  in  a  small  boat, 
which  sped  over  the  clear,  green  waters  *'  like  a  thing  of 
life."  At  the  base  of  the  hill  near  the  falls,  a  little  gallery 
is  built  out,  and  there,  washed  by  the  spray,  and  stunned  by 
the  deafening  roar,  you  have  a  grand  view,  if  indeed  the  spray 


LETTERS.  259 

does  not  blind  your  eyes,  so  that  you  cannot  see.  Here 
wrapped  in  an  oil-cloth  cloak,  I  stood  and  gazed  upon  the 
mountain  of  waters  which  rushed  past  me,  leaping  up  in 
fantastic  forms,  till  my  brain  grew  almost  giddy.  Then  we 
went  up  higher,  where  we  had  another  view,  and  then  higher 
still,  till  we  reached  a  little  pavilion  at  the  top  of  the  hill, 
and  the  whole  lay  at  our  very  feet.  Here  we  sat  and  watched 
the  foaming  water,  and  listened  to  the  bass  drum,  sounding 
from  the  depths  below,  as  if  calling  upon  the  water  with 
stentorian  tones  to  battle  with  the  rocks,  and  to  make  them 
all  give  way  for  it  to  pass.  In  the  bottom  of  one  of  these 
rocks,  a  grotto  has  been  worn,  and  through  it  the  water 
rushes  and  boils  and  breaks  against  the  sides,  as  though  it 
could  brook  no  opposing  element,  and  doubtless,  after  a  few 
more  years,  the  rocks  will  no  longer  impede,  but  they  too 
will  be  carried  down  the  rapid  stream. 

The  keeper  of  the  pavilion  told  us  that  many  who  have 
seen  Niagara  say  that  it  is  inferior  to  this.  Our  national 
feeling  was  at  once  roused,  and  we  denied  the  statement, 
and  said  that  Niagara  was  as  superior  to  the  falls  of  the 
Rhine,  as  the  falls  of  the  Rhine  are  superior  to  some  petty 
cascade.  True,  Niagara  has  not  the  immense  width  of  the 
Rhine,  but  then  the  falls  of  the  Rhine  want  the  depth,  the 
precipitous  fall,  the  solitary  grandeur,  and  the  steep,  wood- 
covered,  craggy  banks  of  Niagara.  However,  there  is  one 
thing  in  which  both  places  are  alike,  viz.,  the  high  price  one 
has  to  pay  for  the  different  views  one  gets. 

We  lingered  around  the  spot,  taking  first  this  view,  then 
that,  till  we  reached  our  little  boat,  and  once  more  landed 
on  this  side.  Here  in  front  of  the  river  in  the  third  story 
of  a  large  house,  is  a  fine  camera  obscura.  The  whole 
scene  was  before  us,  the  rushing  waters  and  the  dancing 
spray,  and  all  too  in  motion,  which  is  an  unusual  thing  in  a 
picture,  though  natural  in  a  camera,  and  the  illusion  was 
heightened  by  the  roar  of  the  water. 

This  is  a  quiet  little  inn,  and  we  have  one  of  the  nicest 


260  LETTERS. 

waiters  in  attendance  upon  us.  He  speaks  English  quite 
well,  though  he  told  me  that  he  had  been  but  six  months  in 
acquiring  his  knowledge  of  the  language. 

Sunday  eve. 
I  have  spent  the  day  in  my  own  room,  quiet  as  I  could 
well  be,  with  the  sound  of  the  rushing  waters  ever  in  my  ears. 
After  dinner  we  took  a  walk  along  the  banks  of  the  river, 
and  looked  our  last  upon  the  falls.  We  seated  ourselves 
upon  a  little  bench,  and  gazed  upon  the  scene,  till  every 
feature  was  impressed  upon  our  memory,  never  I  hope  to  be 
effaced.  Here  seemed  to  be  a  fit  temple  in  which  to  worship 
God,  and  we  could  say, 

"  Thy  heaven  on  which  't  is  bliss  to  look 
Shall  be  our  pure  and  shining  book  ;  " 

while  our  music  was  the  noise  of  the  waters,  not  in  a  "  still, 
small  voice,"  but  in  their  wildest  notes,  and  our  hearts  went 
out  in  adoration  to  Him  who  made  this  world  so  full  of 
beautiful  and  sublime  scenes. 

Again,  good  night.     As  always,  yours. 


Pabis,  July  13lh. 
My  dearest  F.  : 

Once  more  we  are  in  Paris,  "  dear  delightful  Paris,"  and 
oh  !  how  dear  it  seems  to  us,  because  it  looks  natural,  it  being 
the  only  place  we  have  seen  the  second  time.  And  we  feel 
now  that  our  steps  are  really  turned  homeward.  It  is  three 
months  since  we  left  this  city,  and  three  months  have  glided 
so  rapidly  away,  that  the  past  seems  like  a  dream,  a  happy 
dream,  which  one  would  wish  to  dream  again. 

But  you  will  naturally  wish  to  know  how  we  got  here,  so 
I  return  once  more  to  Switzerland ;  and  oh  !  I  fear  much  it  is 
the  only  way  I  shall  ever  return  to  it.     We  stopped  Monday 


LETTERS.  261 

night  in  a  little  village  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  We 
journeyed  through  a  pleasant  and  a  goodly  land.  The  fields 
were  full  of  grain,  and  the  reapers  were  busy  at  their  work. 
At  noon  we  came  once  more  in  sight  of  the  river,  and  we 
followed  its  windings  and  turnings  till  we  came  to  the  little 
village  of  which  I  spoke,  where,  though  its  current  still 
flowed  on,  we  rested  for  the  night.  The  banks  of  the  river 
were  thickly  settled  with  villages,  some  looking  ancient 
enough.  In  one  we  saw  a  ruined  tower,  having  a  tree 
growing  out  of  the  top.  The  houses  were  the  poorest  of 
any  we  had  seen.  They  had  thatched  roofs  extending  far 
down  over  the  sides,  which  give  a  house  such  a  dismal  look ; 
and  then  the  part  universally  reserved  for  the  hay  and  the 
cattle,  and  the  great  pile  of  manure  in  front,  make  a  house 
look  like  a  barn.  And  yet  I  can't  help  laughing  to  see  the 
hens  and  chickens  looking  out  from  the  garret  windows. 
Comical,  is'nt  it  ?  Why  they  are  thus  exalted  I  cannot  tell, 
unless  it  is  to  keep  them  from  the  adjoining  fields. 

We  spent  the  day  on  Tuesday  at  Basle,  which  is  finely 
situated  on  both  sides  of  the  Rhine.  It  is  the  largest  town 
in  Switzerland,  and  derives  much  of  its  importance  from  the 
fact  that  there  the  river  begins  to  be  navigable.  Some  of 
the  houses  are  quite  handsome.  The  inhabitants  must  have 
a  great  deal  of  curiosity,  for  before  the  windows  in  the 
second  story,  small  mirrors  were  fastened  in  such  a  man- 
ner, that  those  within  could  see  persons  passing  along  the 
street,  without  being  seen  themselves.  Then  the  ladies  have 
a  new  fashion  of  fixing  the  hair ;  it  is  drawn  oflf  the  fore- 
head and  braided,  the  braid  hanging  down  the  neck,  and 
having  affixed  to  the  end  long  pieces  of  ribbon.  On  top  on 
each  side  of  the  head,  are  enormous  black  bows,  sticking 
up  in  the  air  like  horns. 

Connected  with  the  Cathedral  is  the  room  in  which  the 
famous  Council  of  Basle  was  held  in  the  fifteenth  century. 
It  is  now  filled  with  fossil  remains,  lately  found  in  the  Jura 
mountains,  the  nautilus,  the  amononite,  as  large  as  a  coach 


262  LETTERS. 

wheel,  the  pearl  oyster,  and  some  shells  now  only  found  in 
the  Baltic  sea  and  the  Indian  ocean.  What  changes  must 
have  taken  place  in  the  world  since  its  creation  ! 

Near  the  church  on  a  high  bank  of  the  river  is  a  small 
promenade  thickly  planted  with  chestnut  trees.  Here  we 
had  a  commanding  view  of  the  flowing  Rhine,  backed  by  a 
ranore  of  mountains,  among  which  lies  the  celebrated  Black 
Forest. 

We  were  called  on  Wednesday  morning  at  four  o'clock  to 
take  the  steamer  for  Strasburg.  We  murmured  a  little  at 
being  disturbed  so  early,  and  it  was  some  consolation  to 
know  that  the  next  two  mornings  we  should  not  have  to  go 
through  the  ceremony  of  getting  up,  not  being  allowed  the 
privilege  of  lying  down  in  the  Diligence.  We  bade  adieu 
to  Francesco  and  his  trusty  steeds,  named,  by  the  way, 
George    and    Louisa,    a  strange   coincidence   rather,  those 

being  the  names  of  the  last  two  scions  of  the family. 

We  really  felt  quite  sorry  at  parting  with  him,  for  we  had 
employed  him  fifty-two  days,  and  travelled  with  him  nearly 
twelve  hundred  miles.  He  would  not  leave  till  he  saw  us 
and  our  packages  safely  on  board  the  boat. 

We  were  six  hours  on  the  river,  and  of  all  journeys 
that  we  have  taken,  that  was  the  most  uninteresting. 
I  was  very  much  disappointed,  though  indeed  we  were 
told  that  "  the  beautiful  Rhine "  did  not  commence  till 
after  leaving  Mayence.  The  banks  were  low  and  marshy, 
bordered  with  common  willow  trees.  The  river  running 
with  a  strong  current  was  thick  and  muddy,  and  in  fact  the 
only  thing  of  interest  was  to  see  the  boat  cut  through 
the  water. 

When  we  stopped  about  three  miles  from  Strasburg  we 
found  the  Diligence  for  Paris  left  at  one  o'clock,  so  we  had 
to  hurry  some  to  get  there  in  season.  Here  we  were  sad- 
dened by  parting  with  our  friend  and  fellow-traveller  Mr.  D., 
he  going  to  Germany,  we  to  France.  For  three  months  we 
had  travelled  together.     We  met   as  strangers ;  not  so  did 


LETTERS.  263 

we  part.  The  common  bonds  of  friendship  are  drawn  tighter 
in  a  foreign  land,  when  you  are  surrounded  by  those  who 
care  neither  for  you  nor  your  native  land.  Judge  then  how 
pleasant  it  was  for  us  to  have  one  who  could  sympathize  with 
us  in  our  absence  from  our  loved  friends  and  our  fatherland. 
To  us  Mr.  D.  was  like  a  kind  father,  and  we  deeply  felt  our 
separation  from  him.  Yet  we  trust,  if  our  lives  are  spared, 
to  meet  in  our  own  country,  and  to  recall  the  scenes  we 
passed  through  together.* 

We  took  a  carriage  to  Strasburg,  and  found  the  ride  quite 
interesting,  especially  when  we  were  stopped  and  our  bag- 
gage trundled  out  of  the  carriage,  and  thoroughly  examined, 
and  my  nicely  packed  engravings  tossed  about,  as  though 
they  were  of  no  value  at  all. 

We  regretted  not  being  able  to  visit  the  time-honored 
Cathedral  of  Strasburg,  but  we  could  not  think  of  stopping 
till  the  next  day  to  see  even  that,  so  we  got  immediately  into 
the  Diligence.  We  found  the  Coupe  unoccupied,  except  by 
one  gentleman,  so  we  took  our  seats  there.  We  found  our 
companion  an  intelligent  Frenchman,  who  was  eager  to 
make  inquiries  about  the  United  States. 

We  were  fifty-two  hours  in  the  Diligence,  stopping  two  or 
three  hours  a  day  for  "  refreshments,"  and  occasionally 
getting  out  to  walk  up  a  very  long  hill.  Yet  I  enjoyed  the 
ride.  The  road  was  excellent,  being  macadamized  the  most 
of  the  way  and  paved  the  remainder.  Shall  I  tell  you  how 
well  I  slept  the  two  nights  I  was  on  the  road  ?  From  eight 
o'clock  each  evening  till  broad  daylight  the  next  morning,  I 
never  woke,  and  that,  too,  when  we  stopped  to  change  horses 
every  hour !     We  had   seven  horses  all  the  time,  so  there 


*  In  revising  these  letters  for  publication,  I  have  taken  a  melancholy 
interest  in  recalling  this  dear  friend  to  mind.  He  is,  alas  !  no  longer 
among  the  living.  He  died,  not  however  till  after  the  happy  anticipations 
in  the  above  letter  were  realized.  We  often  met,  and  as  often  reviewed 
the  scenes  of  the  past.  How  much  interest  would  he  have  taken  in  this 
little  work,  could  he  but  have  lived. 


264  LETTERS. 

must  have  been  some  noise  in  changing  so  many,  and  par- 
ticularly when  the  work  is  done  by  a  party  of  bawling 
Frenchmen.  But  nothing  disturbed  me.  With  my  little 
quilted  cap  on  my  head,  and  leaning  back  on  my  seat,  I 
slept  as  soundly  as  though  on  a  comfortable  bed  in  a  quiet 
room.  Do  you  wonder  that  I  can  travel  without  being  worn 
out  with  fatigue? 

The  country  was  variable ;  sometimes  cultivated  to  the 
hicrhest  degree,  at  others  barren  and  uninteresting.  We 
passed  through  many  towns  and  villages,  but  none  of  them 
very  remarkable.     They  all  seemed  filled  with  soldiers. 

I  asked  our  companion  how  many  soldiers  there  are  at 
present  in  France.  He  said  about  five  hundred  thousand, 
enough  I  should  think  to  keep  the  country  in  subjection. 

Again  we  were  in  the  neighborhood  of  donkeys,  of  women 
in  caps,  of  beggars  in  abundance,  following  us  up  every  hill, 
and  besieging  the  doors  every  time  we  stopped.  At  one 
time  I  counted  eight  around  the  Diligence. 

We  are  now  stopping  at  Madame  Frederic's,  No.  7  Rue 
Castiglione,  very  near  the  garden  of  the  Tuilleries.  We 
preferred  coming  here  to  being  at  a  hotel,  as  we  have  more 
opportunity  here  to  learn  French. 

At  our  banker's  we  found  three  letters  awaiting  us. 
They  were  read  with  eagerness,  1  can  assure  you.  Notwith- 
standing I  slept  so  soundly  in  the  Diligence,  I  anticipate 
with  pleasure  the  luxury  of  a  bed ;    so  good  night  to  you. 


Paris,  Wednesday,  July  28lh. 
My  dear  F.  : 

We  are  now   at  the  end  of  the   second  day   of  the  f6tes 

given  in    commemoration   of  "  the  three  glorious  days  "  of 

July,  1830,  at  which  time  the  last  French  revolution  took 

place,  and  Louis  Philippe  was  seated  on  the  throne. 


LETTERS.  265 

Since  I  last  wrote,  we  have  not  been  out  much,  as  some 
time  was  necessarily  taken  up  in  settling  the  banker's  ac- 
count. In  addition  to  this  J.  was  sick  a  day  or  two,  and  I 
have  been  obliged  to  occupy  a  little  time  in  replenishing  my 
wardrobe,  which,  after  three  months'  constant  "  wear,"  to 
say  nothing  of  the  "  tear,"  arising  from  so  much  packing  and 
unpacking,  got  to  rather  a  low  ebb. 

We  spent  a  part  of  the  day  on  Saturday  in  visiting  the 
Madeleine,  a  beautiful  church,  and  one  that  has  probably 
seen  about  as  many  changes  as  almost  any  church  in  the 
world,  at  least  for  the  number  of  years  it  has  stood.  It  was 
commenced  in  1764,  but  the  events  of  1789  suspended  the 
works  till  1808,  when  Napoleon  commanded  the  whole 
edifice  to  be  taken  down,  and  a  new  one  to  be  erected  in 
its  stead,  in  the  form  of  a  Roman  temple,  to  be  called  "the 
Temple  of  Glory,"  and  to  be  dedicated  to  the  grand  army ; 
but  after  his  brief  reign  was  over,  the  design  was  once  more 
changed.  In  1816,  Louis  XVIII.  ordered  that  it  should  be 
completed  as  a  church.  It  is  not  yet  finished,  however, 
although  the  exterior  is  about  completed.  It  stands  on  a 
raised  platform,  twelve  feet  high,  in  a  fine  position,  fronting 
a  broad  street  that  opens  on  the  garden  of  the  Tuilleries.  It 
is  surrounded  by  a  peristyle  of  fifty-two  Corinthian  columns, 
fluted,  with  flat  surfaces  instead  of  round.  On  the  front  is 
represented  in  bold  relief  the  Judgment.  The  doors  are  of 
bronze,  and  richly  sculptured,  and  are  quite  equal  to  any  of 
the  bas-reliefs  we  saw  in  Italy.  The  interior,  not  being 
finished,  cannot  be  seen  to  good  advantage.  It  is  not 
divided  into  aisles,  but  is  one  open  space  with  four  chapels 
on  each  side,  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  church  by  a  low 
balustrade  of  white  marble.  The  pillars  are  of  stone, 
encrusted  with  marble,  and  are  in  many  places  covered  with 
gilding,  to  my  eye  evidence  of  poor  taste.  There  are  four 
small  domes,  each  having  a  circular  window,  through  which 
comes  all  the  light  that  is  admitted  within  the  church 
23 


266  LETTERS. 

There  are  said  to  be  some  grand  paintings,  but  tliey  are 
at  present  covered  over,  so  we  could  not  get  a  peep  at  them. 

Of  course  one  of  our  first  walks  was  to  the  favorite 
Boulevards.  Under  Louis  XIV.,  the  walls  of  Paris  were 
taken  down,  the  place  levelled,  and  a  street  laid  out  planted 
with  trees  on  both  sides.  This  was  called  Boulevard, 
meaning  "  bulwark."  The  houses  are  handsome,  and  the 
shops  and  cafes  are  among  the  most  beautiful  in  Paris. 
After  all,  it  seems  to  us  that  there  is  no  place  like  Paris. 
When  we  were  here  before,  the  streets  seemed  narrow  and 
rather  dirty,  but  now,  compared  with  the  streets  in  Italy, 
they  look  very  wide,  and  remarkably  clean. 

And  Paris  is  certainly  superior  in  brilliancy  and  splendor 
to  any  city  we  have  yet  seen.  No  where  do  we  see  such 
fine  rows  of  buildings,  such  palace-like  looking  houses,  no 
where  such  gaiety  and  display.  To  walk  on  the  Boulevards 
towards  evening,  to  see  the  shops  brilliantly  illuminated,  and 
the  gaily  dressed  people  thronging  the  streets,  flitting  about 
under  the  trees,  seems  more  like  a  fairy  scene,  than  one  of 
every-day  life.  With  all  the  crowd,  there  is  perfect  freedom 
from  riot  and  disorder,  and  I  think  any  respectable  female 
might  walk  there  alone  at  any  hour  of  the  evening  without 
being  molested.  Police  officers  are  in  every  street  and  at 
every  corner,  and  before  every  cafe.  And  yet  I  rarely  see 
any  of  them  exercising  their  authority.  It  seems  their  very 
presence  has  a  restraining  power. 

Once  more  we  were  in  the  courts  of  the  Palais  Royal,  and 
we  walked  around  again  and  again,  almost  lest  in  admira- 
tion. Our  frequent  exclamation  was,  "  W^hat  would  our  peo- 
ple at  home  say  to  this  ?  "  Here  was  one  shop  radiant  with 
gold,  silver  and  precious  stones ;  there  another  glittering 
with  all  the  fineries  of  the  wardrobe,  and  a  little  farther,  one 
decked  out  with  spectacles  and  eye-glasses,  from  eight  francs 
to  one  thousand  in  value.  In  the  shop  of  the  tailor  patron- 
ized by  the  Dukes  of  Orleans  and  Nemours,  are  clothes  which 
would  cause  even  a  well  dressed  man  to  eye  with  woful  looks 


LETTERS.  267 

his  own  habiliments.  There  you  will  see  most  splendid 
dressing  and  study  gowns,  made  of  the  richest  damask  and 
cachemire,  and  I  have  often  seen  a  single  vest  pattern  marked 
thirty-five  dollars. 

One  of  the  most  prettily  fitted  up  shops  in  the  whole  pal- 
ace is  occupied  by  a  saddler.  You  would  not  imagine  that 
the  implements  of  his  trade  could  look  so  beautiful.  Look 
into  this  nicely  furnished  shop.  See  the  rows  of  seats  and 
the  little  footstools  covered  with  crimson  velvet.  See  the 
little  table  covered  with  the  papers  and  periodicals  of  the 
day.  For  whom,  think  you,  these  luxuries  are  prepared  ? 
For  "  his  most  Christian  Majesty,"  or  some  of  his  royal 
household?  Ah  no  !  for  those  simply  who  wish  to  have 
their  understanding  polished,  or  in  other  words,  their  boots 
blacked.  Here  *'  my  gentleman  shoe-black"  waits  upon  his 
customers  with  all  politeness  imaginable,  blandly  invites 
them  to  take  a  seat,  gently  raises  their  feet  upon  a  footstool, 
hands,  with  a  flourish  peculiarly  his  own,  the  last  paper, 
softly  asking  if  Monsieur  would  like  to  see  the  news ;  and 
while  Monsieur  is  engaged  in  reading  the  latest  accounts  from 
Algiers,  he  quickly  performs  the  duties  of  his  office,  and  then 
reasonably  demands  but  a  few  sous  for  his  labor. 

Sunday  morning  we  attended  the  English  church,  a  fine 
looking  edifice,  built  in  the  Gothic  style.  We  heard  a  very 
good  sermon  from  Bishop  Luscombe,  an  English  bishop  re- 
siding in  Paris.  In  the  afternoon  we  attempted  to  find  the 
chapel  where  American  service  was  held,  and  after  wander- 
ing about  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  makincr  a  dozen  in- 
quiries,  we  thought  we  had  found  it,  but  it  proved  to  be  an 
English  agency  office.  From  our  using  the  word  "service," 
our  inquiries  were  misunderstood,  so  that  we  were  directed 
to  an  Intelligence  office  for  English  servants;  we  gave  up 
the  pursuit  and  came  home.  How  unlike  Sunday  it  seemed  ! 
How  little  there  was  to  designate  the  holy  day !  The  shops 
were  all  open,  the  women  attending  them,  dressed  with  even 
more  than  usual  neatness  and  taste.     Laborers  were  at  work 


26S  LETTERS. 

even  upon  public  buildings,  omnibuses,  full  of  people,  were 
going  hither  and  thither,  and  crowds  were  hastening  out  of 
the  city  to  see  the  display  of  water- works  at  Versailles  and 
St.  Cloud's.  All  seek  their  amusement  on  Sunday.  Even 
the  English  people  staying  at  our  house,  went  to  Versailles 
to  see  the  fountains  play,  which,  by  the  way,  only  takes  place 
once  or  twice  a  year,  and  then  always  on  Sunday. 

Yesterday  we  had  the  honor  of  dining  with  his  Excellency 
Gen.  Cass,  our  Minister  at  the  Court  of  France.  He  is  at 
present  residing  at  a  charming  country  seat  in  the  suburbs  of 
Versailles. 

This  morning  we  went  to  the  Church  of  St.  Roch,  where 
masses  were  said  for  the  souls  of  those  who  perished  in  the 
Revolution  of  1830.  The  altar  was  decorated  with  black 
velvet  embroidered  with  silver,  and  the  steps  were  covered 
with  black  cloth.  The  priests  and  boys  in  the  choir  had 
black  robes,  with  white  mantles  over  them.  The  officiating 
priests  were  dressed  in  robes  of  black  velvet,  inwrought  with 
silver.  The  choir  was  nearly  filled  with  soldiers,  the  mili- 
tary band  played,  and  every  thing  was  conducted  with  more 
than  usual  pomp  and  parade.  Incense  filled  the  church  with 
its  rich  odors,  and  there  was  much  going  to  and  from  the 
high  altar.  Of  course  we  could  understand  but  little,  and 
there  was  such  a  crowd,  I  could  not  see  half  the  time  what 
was  going  on  within  the  choir.  I  stood  up  in  my  chair 
to  get  a  better  view,  and  just  as  I  fixed  my  glass  to  my  eye, 
a  soldier  in  the  royal  livery  came  along,  and  planted  his  gun 
directly  before  me,  saying  in  loud  tones,  "Descendez  s'il 
vous  plait,"  (get  down,  if  you  please,)  but  I  looked  at  him 
as  though  I  did  not  understand,  and  kept  my  position.  He 
repeated  his  command.  I  then  said,  "  English,"  thinking 
that  he  would  let  me  remain  on  my  plea  of  being  a  stranger, 
and  not  understanding  what  he  said ;  but  it  was  of  no  avail. 
Perhaps  if  I  had  said  "American,"  I  might  have  been  left  in 
undisputed  possession  of  the  chair  ;  but  the  word  English  has 
no  charm  for  them,  so  down  I  had  to  get. 


LETTERS.  269 

We  saw  the  Queen  and  the  Princess  Clementine,  the 
youngest  daughter  of  Louis  Philippe,  at  church.  They  were 
dressed  very  plainly,  being  in  mourning  for  the  Queen  of 
Hanover.  The  Queen  is  large,  and  has  a  pleasant  face ;  the 
Princess  has  a  slender  figure,  a  fair  complexion,  and  a  mild, 
unassuming  look.  The  King,  T  believe,  never  attends  church. 
He  has  mass  daily  performed  in  the  chapel  in  the  palace,  but 
he  is  rarely  present. 

As  we  found  that  nothing  particularly  interesting  was  to 
be  seen  to-day  by  way  of  fetes,  we  went  to  the  "  Jardin  des 
Plants,"  where  we  spent  two  or  three  hours  in  wandering 
under  the  shade  of  the  beautiful  lime  trees,  by  the  beds  of 
flowers,  loading  the  air  with  their  sweets,  and  in  gazing 
upon  the  almost  countless  number  of  beautiful  birds  and 
animals  there  collected.  I  have  before  mentioned  this  gar- 
den to  you,  so  I  will  say  nothing  more  about  it,  except  that 
we  were  much  amused  at  seeing  the  crowds  gathered  around 
the  large  cage  filled  with  monkeys,  and  they  seemed  to  be 
much  interested  and  excited  by  the  gambols  of  these  odd 
looking  and  odd  acting  creatures. 

We  were  not  able  to  visit  the  museums  connected  with 
this  garden,  as  they  were  closed  on  account  of  the  fetes. 

On  our  way  home  we  stopped  at  the  Foundling  Hospital. 
Formerly  there  was  near  the  door  a  box  where  children  were 
put,  like  the  one  at  Milan  that  I  mentioned  in  one  of  my 
letters ;  but  so  many  children  thus  deposited  were  found  out 
afterwards  to  be  the  children  of  parents  able  to  support  them, 
and  so  many  dead  infants  were  placed  there,  to  avoid  the 
expense  of  burying  them,  that  this  box  is  not  used  at  present, 
and  no  child  can  be  admitted  without  a  certificate  from  a 
commissary  of  police,  that  the  parents  are  not  able  to  sup- 
port it. 

There  are  at  present  three  hundred  children  in  the  house, 

and  all  these  are  sick,  the  healthy  ones  being  in  the  country. 

How  many  of  those  there  are,  I  did  not  ask.     The  rooms 

have  little  cradles  or   cribs  arranged  around  the  sides,  taste- 

23* 


270  LETTERS. 

fully  fitted  up  with  white  curtains.  A  sloping  bed  was  placed 
before  the  fire,  on  which  were  laid  those  children  who  needed 
warmth.  The  poor  little  things  were  nearly  all  crying,  and 
the  nurses  were  busy  feeding  them  and  trying  to  soothe 
them ;  while  a  nun,  in  her  neat,  simple  attire,  stood  by  a 
laro-e  kettle,  dispensing  the  necessary  articles  of  nourish- 
ment. At  first  the  scene  struck  me  as  amusing,  but  when  I 
looked  on  the  wan,  wo-begone  face  of  a  sick  little  boy,  and 
listened  to  the  piteous  wailings  of  the  infants,  some  of  them 
not  more  than  a  few  weeks  old,  my  heart  was  moved  with 
pity,  and  I  could  not  but  be  touched  at  the  words  over  one 
of  the  doors  :  "  My  father  and  my  mother  have  forsaken  me, 
but  the  Lord  has  taken  care  of  me." 

In  1837  there  were  four  thousand  six  hundred  and  forty- 
four  children  admitted  into  this  hospital  !  I  do  think  such 
institutions,  however  praiseworthy  in  themselves,  deleterious 
in  the  end,  since  they  must  encourage  illegitimacy ;  for  all 
in  Paris  know  that  children  may  thus  be  easily  disposed  of 
without  any  expense  to  their  parents. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  we  enjoy  rambling  around 
in  Paris,  in  the  lawless  manner  we  do,  without  being  obliged 
to  be  subject  to  the  direction  of  a  valet  de  place.  We  are 
now  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  city  and  the  language 
to  get  along  without  a  guide,  except  Galignani's  printed 
guide.  So  we  go  just  where  we  please,  and  stay  as  long  as 
we  like. 

We  visited  the  Pantheon,  formerly  the  Church  of  St.  Gene- 
vieve, but  now  used  for  no  worship  whatever.  It  is  a  splen- 
did looking  building,  both  outside  and  in.  It  has  a  portico, 
sustained  by  twenty-two  fluted  Corinthian  columns  ;  the  front 
is  decorated  with  bas-reliefs,  but  the  other  parts  of  the  exte- 
rior are  quite  plain.  From  the  centre  rises  up  the  dome, 
surrounded  by  thirty-two  pillars.  The  interior  is  plain,  neat 
and  chaste.  Its  form  is  that  of  the  Greek  cross.  A  colon- 
nade, supported  by  handsome  stone  pillars,  runs  along  on 
both  sides,  and  a  gallery  above,  light'ed  with  semicircular  win- 


LETTERS.  271 

dows.  The  inside  of  the  dome  is  lined  with  paintings. 
Beneath  the  dome  are  bronze  tablets,  on  which  are  engraved 
in  letters  of  gold  the  names  of  those  who  fell  in  the  Revolu- 
tion of  1830.  There  are  no  altars,  no  chapels;  all  is  plain, 
except  at  the  head  of  the  cross  is  a  statue.  Beneath  the 
church  are  vaults.  In  the  first  two  or  three  it  was  quite 
light.  Here  were  the  tombs  of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  in 
the  style  of  old  Roman  tombs,  though  the  guide  hurried  us 
so,  I  had  no  time  to  notice  any  thing.  After  we  left  these, 
we  were  obliged  to  use  lanterns.  For  my  life,  although  we 
were  in  the  places  of  the  dead,  I  could  scarcely  keep  from 
laughing  right  out  at  the  scene  we  presented.  There  were 
twelve  or  fifteen  persons  present,  and  we  had  a  real  old  sol- 
dier, a  true  disciplinarian,  to  guide  us.  When  he  entered 
any  vault,  he  would  make  us  range  along  on  both  sides,  and 
he  would  stand  at  the  head  of  the  lines,  and  rattle  off  as  fast 
and  as  loud  the  names  of  those  who  were  there  buried,  and  if 
we  started  out  of  that  line,  he  would  instantly  stop  and  say, 
"  Gentlemen,  ladies,  I  cannot  go  on  if  you  do  not  keep  your 
places."  And  thus  we  were  hurried  along,  so  that  I  knew 
nothing  of  whose  tombs  we  visited,  excepting  that  I  caught 
the  name  of  Lagrange,  till  I  got  out,  and  then  I  found  by  the 
guide-book  that  several  distinguished  persons  were  there 
buried. 

There  was  a  grand  echo  in  one  part  of  the  vaults,  words 
being  repeated  distinctly,  and  the  noise  made  by  the  old  sol- 
dier's cane  striking  upon  the  wall,  reverberating  among  the 
arches  like  thunder  among  the  hills. 

We  came  home  through  the  "  Place  Carousel,"  (so  called 
from  a  great  tournament  held  there  in  the  time  of  Louis 
XIV.,)  where,  seeing  many  people  standing  around,  and  a 
carriage  with  two  outriders  drawn  up  before  one  of  the  doors 
of  the  palace,  we  got  out  and  dismissed  our  carriage,  think- 
ing that  maybe  the  King  was  going  to  ride  out,  though 
there  seemed  to  be  hardly  style  enough  for  a  king.  How- 
ever, after  waiting  some  time,  we  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing. 


272  LETTERS. 

not  his  Majesty,  but  Madame  Adelaide,  his  sister,  a  lady  in 
the  autumn  of  her  charms,  but  still  showing  many  traces  of 
beauty,  and  having  a  sweet  smile,  that  probably  age  will 
never  mar. 

What  a  fine  large  square  this  "Place"  is,  surrounded  as 
it  is  by  the  Tuilleri^  and  the  Louvre,  with  its  "  Arch  of 
Triumph "  beautifully  sculptured,  facing  the  Tuilleries. 
When  I  first  came  to  Paris,  I  was  disappointed  in  these  pala- 
ces, but  now  I  think  them  superb.  The  Louvre,  seen  from 
the  river,  is  so  grand,  and  the  whole  range,  compared  with 
the  small  palaces  of  Italy,  looks  magnificent.  And  then  how 
beautiful  is  the  garden,  stretching  far  down  along  the  quay, 
with  its  pretty  walks,  its  splendid  trees,  its  sweet  flowers,  its 
little  ponds  filled  with  gold-fish  and  swans,  floating  so  grace- 
fully on  the  water,  and  its  statuary,  seen  gleaming  through 
the  trees:  these  charms,  heightened  by  the  fine  old  palace  of 
dark  grey  stone,  abounding  in  sculpture,  and  the  crowds  of 
people  flitting  here  and  there  among  the  trees,  make  a  pic- 
ture, which  one  might  imagine,  but  not  often  see,  at  least, 
out  of  Paris. 

And  then,  too,  where  is  there  such  a  noble  range  of  build- 
ings, as  that  front  of  the  garden  on  Rue  Rivoli  ?  —  each 
house  a  palace  in  itself,  extending  from  street  to  street, 
and  supported  by  arches  and  pillars,  forming  one  of  the  best 
promenades  in  the  world.  And  from  Rue  Rivoli,  up  Cas- 
tiglione,  are  two  more  palace-like  houses,  each  having  a 
colonnade,  and  further  up,  the  street  widens,  and  in  the 
centre  of  this  semicircle,  rises  the  dark  column  of  "  Place 
Vendome,"  erected  by  Napoleon  in  commemoration  of  his 
victories  in  the  German  campaign  of  1805.  It  is  of  stone, 
covered  with  bronze  from  twelve  hundred  cannon  taken 
from  the  Russians  and  Austrians.  It  is  one  hundred  and 
thirty  feet  high,  and  the  pedestal,  which  is  twenty-one  feet 
in  height,  is  covered  with  bas-reliefs,  representing  the 
uniform,  armor,  and  weapons  of  the  vanquished  troops. 

The  column  is  covered  with  a  series  of  sculptured  figures, 


LETTERS.  273 

winding  around  in  a  spiral  form,  depicting  particular  scenes 
in  the  campaign.  The  whole  is  crowned  by  a  bronze  statue 
of  Napoleon. 

From  the  top  of  this  pillar  a  man  threw  himself  the  other 
day,  so  now  it  is  necessary  to  obtain  permission  from  some 
officer  of  state,  before  you  can  go  up. 

But  I  have  wandered  far  from  the  garden  of  the  Tuilleri^. 
Let  us  stroll  slowly  back,  admiring  the  shops  in  Rue 
Castiglione,  till  once  more  we  enter  within  the  iron  railing  of 
the  garden.  Here  we  waited  an  hour  listening  to  the  music 
of  the  band,  and  watching  the  preparations  going  on  for  the 
concert  and  illumination  to-morrow  evening,  and  expecting 
to  see  the  king  come  out  on  the  balcony ;  but  after  waiting 
till  my  strength  was  exhausted,  though  not  my  patience  (for 
it  is  wonderful  what  patience  a  desire  to  see  a  great  man 
will  be*get),  we  walked  through  the  garden  to  the  "  Place  de 
la  Concorde,"  and  here,  while  we  stop  to  gaze  for  the 
hundredth  time  upon  the  beauties  around  us,  let  me  describe 
the  scene  to  you.  This  **  place"  is  octagonal,  being  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  from  north  to  south,  and  five  hundred 
and  twenty-five  from  east  to  west.  Around  the  sides  are 
eight  small  pavilions,  each  surrounded  by  an  allegorical 
figure,  representing  one  of  the  eight  principal  cities  of 
France,  viz.,  Lille,  Strasburg,  Bordeaux,  Nantes,  Marseilles, 
Brest,  Rouen  and  Lyons.  Li  the  centre  of  the  "place"  is 
the  obelisk  of  Luxor,  seventy-two  feet  high,  covered  with 
gilded  hieroglyphics.  On  either  side  of  this  is  a  splendid 
fountain,  composed  of  three  basins.  In  the  lower  basin  are 
Titans  and  Naiads  holding  fishes  which  are  spouting  water. 
From  the  upper  basin  water  is  thrown  up  into  the  air,  which 
falling  over,  meets  that  coming  from  below.  These  basins 
and  their  pedestals  are  gilded,  and  are  certainly  the  finest 
fountains  we  have  seen,  unless  we  except  the  fountain  of 
Trevi,  at  Rome. 

Around  the  parapet  enclosing  this  "  place,"  are  twenty 
columns   of  bronze,    gilded,    on  top  of  which   are  lamps. 


274  LETTERS. 

South  of  the  "  place,"  and  just  across  the  bridge,  is  seen 
the  splendid  building  of  the  "  Chamber  of  Deputies,"  and 
north,  on  Rue  Rivoli,  are  two  palaces,  separated  by  a  wide 
street,  at  the  upper  end  of  which  stands  the  Madeleine.  On 
the  east  is  the  garden  of  the  Tuilleries,  and  on  the  west  the 
"  Champs  Elysees,"  or  Elysian  Fields,  an  immense  park 
s4udded  with  trees.  Four  roads  intersect  the  place  ;  the 
rest  is  paved  in  compartments.  Towards  the  Champs 
Elysees  on  lofty  pedestals,  are  two  restive  horses  in  the  act 
of  being  checked  by  grooms ;  they  are  admirable  pieces  of 
workmanship. 

Now  if  one  wishes  to  see  a  nobler  public  "  place"  than 
this,  or  to  listen  to  sweeter  music  than  the  lulling  sound  of 
the  fountains,  I  really  do  not  know  where  he  will  seek  for  it. 

But  after  so  long  a  ramble,  and  such  a  lengthened  de- 
scription, I  am  rather  tired,  and  you  must  be  also;  so* out  of 
regard  for  my  own  strength  and  your  patience,  I  stop  here. 


Paris,  July  30th. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

We  spent  almost  the  whole  of  the  day  yesterday  in  the 
Champs  Elysees,  where  were  most  of  the  shows  and  per- 
formances, and  what  a  scene  was  here  presented  !  Beneath 
the  lofty  trees,  were  hundreds  of  booths  and  stands  and 
tents,  where  were  all  sorts  of  amusements  that  you  can 
imagine,  and  more  too,  for  you,  in  your  sober  United  States, 
can  form  no  idea  of  the  little  gaieties  and  fooleries  that  at- 
tract a  Frenchman.  How  many  different  spectacles  were 
presented  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  Here  were  feats  of 
strength  to  be  exhibited,  there  a  little  play  to  be  acted,  here 
a  large  woman  to  be  seen,  there  a  tall  one,  eight  feet  high, 
here  knowing  animals,  there  a  small  circus,  and  in  short,  I 
can't  tell  you  the  half  Each  tent  had  a  great  picture  in 
front,   giving  one  a  feeble  idea  of  the  attractions  that  were 


LETTERS.  275 

within,  and  a  band  of  music,  each  striving  to  play  the 
loudest  to  attract  the  most  visitors.  On  the  stands  were 
exhibited  in  tempting  display,  cakes,  nuts,  and  fruits,  and 
each  tended  by  an  active  man  or  woman,  who  were  all  using 
their  lungs  to  the  best  advantage,  calling  in  politest  terms 
on  the  messieurs  and  mesdames,  and  on  the  little  boys  and 
girls  to  come  and  buy. 

Then  there  were  little  figures  dressed  up  and  fixed  on  a 
board,  for  beginners  in  the  shooting  art  to  fire  at.  These 
were  so  arranged  that  if  hit  in  the  right  place,  they  would 
turn  a  graceful  somerset,  to  the  no  small  amusement  of  a 
number  of  children,  among  which  we  stood,  with  mouths 
and  eyes  wide  open,  that  we  might  lose  nothing  of  what 
was  going  on. 

There  were  other  figures  which  would  not  only  turn 
upside-down  when  hit,  but  would  in  their  turning,  touch 
some  sort  of  crackers,  which  produced  quite  an  explosion, 
thus  adding  another  noise  to  the  already  discordant  ones, 
with  which  the  air  was  filled.  Then  there  were  little 
rows  of  plaster  figures  to  be  shot  at,  and  great  were  the  rav- 
ages here  seen.  One  was  "  minus  "  a  head,  another,  one 
leg,  a  third  both,  to  say  nothing  of  sundry  wounds  in  the 
arms,  heads,  and  sides ;  some  were  completely  prostrate, 
others  were  gracefully  inclining  to  one  side,  some  were  on 
their  knees,  while  others  had  no  knees  to  fall  on. 

Besides  these  interesting  sights,  some  were  throwing  a 
ring,  so  as  to  hang  it  on  a  hook ;  others,  circular  pieces  of 
iron,  to  cover  corresponding  circles  on  a  little  platform, 
and  others  still  were  rollmg  a  ball  so  as  to  knock  down  little 
images,  nine  pins,  &>c.  For  the  most  of  these  perform- 
ances, you  paid  so  much  for  a  trial  of  your  strength  and 
ingenuity,  and  if  you  came  off  victorious,  you  gained  a  little 
cake,  or  mayhap  two,  and  if  you  did  not  succeed,  you  had 
the  consolation  of  knowing  that  you  had  tried. 

Nor  must  I  forget  the  number  of  men  and  women  who 
had  large   and  tastefully  decorated  cans  fastened  on  their 


276  LETTERS. 

backs,  in  which  were  various  liquids  denominated  refreshing 
drinks.  T\yo  pipes  at  the  bottom  of  the  can  passed  under 
the  arm,  so  that  the  drink  could  be  drawn  out  without  low- 
ering the  vessel  from  the  back.  And  each  one  carried 
bricrht  shining  pewter  tumblers  and  a  napkin  to  wipe  them 
out  after  they  had  been  used.  In  the  other  hand  another 
tumbler  was  carried,  to  which  a  little  piece  of  copper  was 
attached,  which  being  struck  against  it  produced  a  sound 
like  the  tinkling  of  a  small  bell,  and  this  was  constantly 
kept  going,  so  that  wherever  I  went,  I  heard  this  little  tin- 
kle, tinkle,  though  I  was  never  tempted  to  buy  the  stuff  it 
foretold  to  be  at  hand.  And  so  we  strolled  about  till  we  got 
quite  tired,  and  then  we  hired  chairs,  and  sat  down,  and 
looked  around,  wondering  if  ever  under  the  sun  just  such 
another  scene  was  presented. 

After  sitting  awhile  we  took  a  new  start,  and  went  farther 
along  under  the  trees,  and  here  we  saw  still  different  diver- 
sions going  on.  A  pole  about  one  hundred  feet  high  was 
erected,  on  the  top  of  which  hung  a  wreath,  from  which 
were  suspended  a  silver  spoon,  a  cup,  a  small  watch,  and  a 
pipe.  This  pole  was  plentifully  besmeared  with  soap  and 
grease,  so  that  it  was  rather  a  slippery  task  to  climb  it, 
nevertheless  the  first  who  got  to  the  top  was  entitled  to  the 
greatest  prize.  Each  man  was  allowed  to  carry  up  two  bags 
of  sand.  "With  some  of  this  he  would  rub  the  pole,  till  he 
got  it  so  that  he  could  climb  up  a  little  ways,  then  clinging 
round  with  his  feet  he  would  rub  up  a  little  higher,  and  so 
on,  till  his  sand  was  exhausted,  though  long  before  that, 
many  of  them  would  come  sliding  down,  to  the  infinite 
diversion  of  the  crowds  around  the  pole.  I  do  not  know  how 
many  tried,  before  the  summit  was  reached,  for  I  got  tired 
of  looking  after  an  hour  or  two,  so  then  we  walked  about  a 
little  while.  Of  course  the  more  that  tried,  the  less  effort 
was  it  to  climb,  as  the  soap  and  grease  got  well  rubbed  off. 
One  by  one  the  prizes  were  obtained  ;  the  last  one  that 
went  up,  threw  the  wreath  to  the  ground,  and  coolly  seated 


LETTERS.  277 

himself  on  the  top  of  the  pole,  amid  the  loud  shouts  of  the 
spectators.  He  remained  there  some  time,  occasionally 
relieving  himself,  by  hanging  round  the  pole  with  his  head 
down  and  his  feet  up  in  the  air,  and  then  standing  on  the 
top,  and  swinging  his  feet  and  arms  round,  and  finally, 
ending  the  performance  by  coming  down  head-first  like  a  cat. 

It  was  three  or  four  hours  before  the  last  prize  was  won, 
so,  as  I  told  you  before,  I  occasionally  went  away,  and  after 
a  little  while  returned  to  see  the  progress  of  affairs.  Some- 
times I  hired  a  chair  and  sat  down,  and  then  I  was  almost 
deafened  by  the  shrill  voices  of  men  and  women  screamino- 
'*  place  a  louer,"  (places  to  let),  telling  each  gentleman  and 
lady  who  passed  by,  that  there  were  just  two  chairs  left, 
when  perhaps  there  were  a  half  dozen,  till  I  got  tired  of  the 
sound,  and  started  to  go  away,  offering  to  the  woman  two 
sous,  the  usual  price,  which  she  indignantly  refused,  saying 
that  in  such  a  situation  it  was  well  worth  five,  so  after  a 
little  demurring,  I  yielded. 

We  then  stopped  at  a  little  theatre,  erected  for  the  occa- 
sion, where  a  company  of  soldiers  were  acting  out  some 
terrible  battle.  Great  was  the  noise,  both  from  the  firing  of 
guns  and  pistols,  and  the  clashing  of  swords,  and  many  fell 
"  wdth  all  their  blushing  honors  thick  upon  them,"  but  none 
were  so  far  gone,  that  they  could  not  jump  up  and  pull  down 
the  curtain  when  it  refused  to  fall. 

We  also  entered  a  circus,  where  the  price  of  admission 
was  but  six  sous  (a  sous  is  about  one  cent).  Here  we  saw 
a  little  girl  and  two  or  three  men  riding,  neither  perform- 
ance, however,  being  very  remarkable  by  way  of  agility. 
There  was  a  horse  that  would  kneel  down  and  "make  be- 
lieve "  die,  when  ordered  to,  and  perform  many  other  curious 
tricks. 

All  along  under   the  trees,   little   temporary  cafes  were 

erected,    and  the    signs   announced'  that    a    "  merchant  of 

wine"    was  within  and  ready  to  wait  upon  customers.     A 

table  was  constantly  spread,  with  not  the  most  inviting  look- 

24 


278  LETTERS. 

ing  refreshments.  In  other  places  were  little  furnaces, 
where  a  dinner  was  cooked  "  in  less  than  no  time,"  and 
where  the  savory  smells  invited  the  stroller  by,  to  come  and 
taste  the  good  things  there  prepared. 

While  sitting  under  the  shade  of  one  of  the  trees,  whom 
should  we  see  but  our  former  fellow-traveller,  Mr.  T.,  or 
rather  the  shadow  of  his  former  self!  We  were  right  glad 
to  meet  him,  but  sorry  to  hear  that  he  had  been  detained 
two  weeks  at  Milan  by  a  fever. 

W^e  came  home  and  rested  awhile  before  dinner,  after 
which  we  went  to  the  garden  of  the  Tuilleries  to  attend  the 
concert.  Madame  Frederic  was  so  good  as  to  procure  us 
tickets,  hundreds  of  which  were  distributed  in  some  manner, 
I  know  not  how,  but  without  any  expense.  There  was  a 
great  crowd,  and  I  had  to  stand  nearly  all  the  time,  though 
after  about  an  hour  and  a  half,  I  succeeded  in  getting  a 
chair.  A  few  pieces  were  played,  and  then  there  was  a 
pause,  as  though  in  expectation  of  something  or  somebody. 
And  hark  !  what  shout  is  that  ?  "  Vive  le  Roi !  "  (Long  live 
the  King.)  A  glass  door  is  opened,  and  on  the  balcony  in 
front  of  the  palace,  appears  the  King,  Louis  Philippe.  He 
has  on  a  military  coat  with  a  red  sword  band,  and  holds  in 
his  hand  his  cocked  hat.  Instantly  every  head  is  uncovered, 
and  shouts  rend  the  air.  Republicans  as  we  are,  we  cry 
too,  **  Vive  le  Roi."  He  bowed  and  smiled  and  waved  his 
hand  as  the  multitudes  acknowledged  his  presence.  You 
have  seen  portraits  of  Louis  Philippe  ;  they  are  exceedingly 
like  him.  He  is  a  large  man,  with  a  pleasant,  smiling  face. 
His  hair  which  is  tinged  with  grey,  was  brushed  back 
from  his  forehead,  displaying  his  physiognomy  to  the  best 
advantage.  Scarcely  had  I  time  to  make  these  observations, 
whenlo!  another  shout,  *' Vive  la  Reine,"  (Long  live  the 
Queen).  The  queen  too  comes,  and  her  pleasant  face  is 
lighted  up  with  a  smile,  as  she  gracefully  curtsies  in  answer 
to  the  good  wishes  of  her  affectionate  subjects.  Her  hair 
is  quite  grey,  and  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day  here, 


LETTERS.  279 

she  does  not  hide  it  under  a  wig,  but  wears  it  curled  as 
though  it  was  in  its  original  beauty. 

Again  the  music  struck  up.  A  tasteful  orchestra  had 
been  fitted  up  for  the  band,  who  seemed  to  try  their  very 
best  to  please.  It  was  grand  music,  but  you  will  believe  me 
when  I  say  that  I  was  more  engaged  in  looking  at  the 
royal  personages,  than  in  listening  to  the  music,  for  that  can 
be  heard  here  any  day,  but  kings  are  not  always  visible. 
During  the  pieces,  another  form  appeared  on  the  balcony. 
It  was  the  young  queen  of  Spain,  beautiful  as  the  daughters 
of  that  fair  land  are  reputed  to  be.  She  had  a  large  pink 
shawl  thrown  over  her  shoulders,  and  in  her  dark  hair  a 
bunch  of  flowers,  among  which  sparkled  a  diamond.  Then 
came  the  Duchesses  of  Orleans  and  Nemours,  each  in 
white,  with  blue  mantles  around  their  shoulders,  and  wearing 
head-dresses  trimmed  with  blue.  Standing  modestly  back 
was  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  the  heir  apparent  to  the  throne. 
This  completed  the  group,  on  which  I  gazed,  quite  neglect- 
ing the  music.  For  the  information  of  the  females  at  home, 
who  have  no  way  of  knowing  how  kings  and  queens  dress,  I 
have  been  thus  particular  in  describing  the  dress  of  each.  I 
forgot,  though,  to  say,  that  the  queen  of  France  was  dressed 
in  white.  It  soon  grew  dark,  aud  we  prepared  to  leave  the 
garden,  but  not  till  the  orchestra  was  illuminated  with  its 
many  colored  lights,  and  pyramids  of  burning  lamps  were  seen 
glimmering  through  the  trees.  /The  most  perfect  order  was 
every  where  observed  during  the  concert.  Not  a  flower  was 
trampled  on,  not  a  blade  of  grass  injured.  Would  the  same 
have  been  said  if  the  like  scene  had  occurred  in  our  own 
land  ?  I  fear  not.  Nearly  every  man  who  carried  a  jack- 
knife  in  his  pocket  would  have  left  the  initials  of  his  name 
upon  the  nearest  tree.  Reverence  for  public  buildings  and 
public  property  is  not  a  characteristic  of  our  republicans  at 
home.  We  can  never  have  parks  and  fine  promenades, 
because  the  people  are  not  brought  up  with  a  taste  for  such 
things,  and  know  not  how  to  prize  them. , 


2S0  LETTERS. 

But  I  have  wandered  from  my  subject.  We  left  the 
garden,  and  wended  our  way  among  crowds  of  people  to  the 
"  Place  de  la  Concorde,"  where  we  got  a  good  stand  to  see 
the  fireworks.  In  the  streets  around  the  **  place,"  men  on 
horseback  were  stationed,  to  see  that  no  carriages  came  near, 
so  that  there  should  be  no  danger  of  being  run  over  or 
knocked  down.  The  palaces  in  Rue  Rivoli  were  tastefully 
illuminated  with  a  bright  gas-light  in  each  arch  of  the 
colonnades.  But  what  could  equal  the  splendor  of  the 
Champs  Elysees  ?  Thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of 
lights  of  all  colors,  and  arranged  in  every  variety  of  form, 
sparkled  among  the  trees ;  the  avenue  leading  to  the  tri- 
umphal arch  shone  brilliantly.  When  I  tell  you  that  eight 
hundred  men  were  engaged  for  more  than  one  hour  in 
lighting  these  lamps,  you  can  form  some  idea  of  the  great 
number  of  them. 

Front  of  the  "  Chamber  of  Deputies,"  the  fireworks 
went  up,  and  certainly  never  were  more  brilliant  ones  seen. 
They  were  not  of  as  many  different  forms  as  we  sometimes 
have  at  home,  neither  was  there  a  half  hour's  interval  be- 
tween each  one,  as  is  often  the  case  with  us,  but  they  were 
so  brilliant,  so  dazzling,  and  of  such  rich  colors,  and  they 
went  up  in  such  quick  succession,  that  they  seemed  to  us 
superior  to  any  thing  of  the  kind  we  ever  saw.  Serpents 
fought  in  the  air  in  a  blaze  of  light  and  amid  falling  stars, 
and  then  the  scene  around  was  beautiful  in  itself  and  well 
calculated  to  fix  our  earnest  attention.  The  very  sculpture 
on  the  front  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  stood  out  in  bold 
relief,  and  the  figures  on  the  pavilions,  around  the  "Place 
de  la  Concorde,"  seemed  bathed  in  golden  light,  while  the 
waters  of  the  fountains  sparkled  and  shone  like  threads  of 
silver.  To  heighten  the  effect  of  the  noise  of  the  rockets, 
cannons  were  fired  beyond  the  Champs  Elysees.  I  never 
expected  to  witness  such  a  scene  ;  it  was  of  itself  well  worth 
a  voyage  across  the  Altantic.  And  then  among  the  thousands 
and  tens  of  thousands  there   assembled,  such  perfect  order 


LETTERS.  281 

was  preserved  ;  there  was  no  noise,  no  bawling,  no  drunken- 
ness. True,  as  the  brilliant  rockets  went  up,  the  people 
shouted,  but  it  was  the  exuberance  of  feeling  called  forth  by 
gaiety,  not  by  unwholesome  excitement,  I  verily  believe 
any  respectable  female  might  have  stood  there  alone  without 
harm.  One  feature  about  these  fetes  particularly  struck  me, 
the  interest  which  the  parents  manifested  in  taking  their 
children  from  one  object  of  curiosity  to  another.  Look 
where  you  would  on  the  night  of  the  fireworks,  you  would 
see  fathers,  and  even  mothers,  holding  in  their  arms  large 
boys  and  girls,  that  they  might  see  to  better  advantage. 
And  when  the  signal  was  given  that  the  fetes  were  ended, 
all  turned  cheerfully  yet  quietly  to  their  homes.  The 
crowd  was  intense,  till  we  got  out  of  the  **  place,"  then 
different  parties  took  different  directions,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  streets  seemed  quiet  and  almost  deserted.  Of 
the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  (I  use  this  high  sound- 
inor  term  without  exaofcreration),  I  saw  during  the  fetes,  I 
saw  no  one  drunk  or  quarrelling,  which  I  greatly  fear  would 
not  have  been  the  case  in  our  own  land.  And  yet  how  much 
do  we  hear  of  the  excitability  and  vehemence  of  the  French. 
True,  they  are  excitable,  but  then  they  are  apparently  just 
as  much  interested  in  the  gambols  of  a  monkey,  or  the 
movements  of  a  puppet  dance,  as  in  the  greater  and  more 
noisy  events  of  life.  And  it  is  because  they  enter  with  so 
much  zest  into  such  simple  and  childlike  amusements,  that 
they  do  not  resort  to  such  artificial  stimulus  or  excitement 
as  is  seen  with  us. 

I  can  assure  you  I  was  glad  to  find  myself  in  my  own 
room  after  the  "  performance  of  the  day  "  was  ended,  for 
you  may  well  imagine,  that  after  having  stood  up  at  least 
eight  hours  during  the  day,  to  say  nothing  of  my  various 
walks  about,  I  was  not  a  little  in  need  of  rest  when  night 
came ;  and  so  wearied  have  I  felt  to-day,  that  I  have  been 
unable  to  go  out  but  once  or  twice.  In  fact  much  of  the 
time  has  been  necessarily  taken  up  with  getting  the  passport 
24* 


282  LETTERS. 

ready  for  leaving  Paris,  and  making  inquiries  about  the  best 
route  and  the  best  steamers  for  England.  We  have  finally 
decided  to  go  by  the  way  of  Dieppe,  as  it  is  but  thirteen 
hours'  ride  there,  while  it  is  twenty-eight  to  Boulogne  or 
Calais. 

In  our  walk  this  evening  to  Palais  Royal,  we  passed  down 
Rue  Vivienne,  a  fine  street  adorned  with  handsome  houses. 
In  this  street  is  the  Exchange,  a  new  and  elegant  building. 
Its  form  is  a  parallelogram,  being  two  hundred  and  twelve 
feet  by  one  hundred  and  twenty-six.  It  is  surrounded  by  a 
portico,  adorned  with  sixty-six  Corinthian  columns.  We  did 
not  attempt  to  go  inside,  as  we  did  not  know  the  hours  at 
which  strangers  were  admitted. 

Have  I  before  told  you  that  the  shops  are  mostly  tended 
by  females  1  It  is  so  long  since  I  first  wrote  to  you  from 
Paris,  that  I  have  almost  forgotten  what  I  did  write,  so  if  I 
repeat  any  thing,  please  impute  it  to  forgetfulness,  not  to  a 
wish  to  burden  you  twice  with  the  same  subject.  But  to 
return  to  the  women.  At  first  I  was  surprised  at  seeing 
them  in  shops  of  every  kind,  but  in  a  country  where  there 
is  a  standing  army  of  four  hundred  thousand  soldiers,  and 
particularly  in  France,  where  the  terrible  conscriptions  of 
Napoleon  have  made  such  ravages,  how  could  it  be  otherwise 
than  that  many  of  the  avocations  and  employments  consid- 
ered in  our  country  as  exclusively  appertaining  to  the  male 
sex,  should  here  be  performed  by  females  ?  They  seem  to 
be  industrious  and  quiet  and  polite.  When  not  engaged  in 
waiting  upon  customers,  they  are  busy  sewing,  and  thus 
they  eke  out  their  wages  by  doing  embroidery  and  fancy 
work.  They  all  dress  very  neatly,  and  in  exquisite  taste. 
They  get  a  mosseline  de  laine  dress  for  a  franc  or  a  franc 
and  a  half  a  yard,  a  collar  for  two  or  three  francs  more,  and 
a  black  silk  mantilla,  trimmed  with  wide  lace,  which  as  you 
look  at  it  closely,  you  will  see  is  but  common  lace,  and  thus 
with  half  the  expense  the  same  class  at  home  would  be  at, 
they  look  much  nicer  and  neater.     Nor  is  this  economy  in 


LETTERS.  283 

dress  confined  to  this  class  of  people.  I  have  seen  ladies 
who  daily  ride  in  their  carriages,  attended  by  two  or  three 
servants  in  livery,  wear  bonnets  and  dresses  of  such  common 
materials,  as  our  ladies  at  home  would  turn  up  their  noses 
at.  Yet  such  is  the  knack  and  taste  of  every  French  woman 
of  whatever  class,  that  she  looks  well  in  any  thing.  Of 
course  I  have  no  way  of  knowing  how  expensively  they  are 
dressed  at  home  or  at  parties,  but  when  they  appear  in  the 
streets  and  on  the  public  promenades,  it  is  always  in  dresses 
befitting  the  occasion.  Will  you  think  me  enlarging  too 
much  on  little  things,  if  I  tell  you  that  here  almost  every 
lady  is  accompanied  by  her  little  lap-dog  ?  Sometimes  she 
carries  it  in  her  arms,  sometimes  it  toddles  along  by  her 
side,  attached  to  her  wrist  by  a  long  chain,  and  often  I  have 
seen  it  borne  by  the  lady's  gallant,  who  certainly  must  act 
on  the  proverb,  *'  Love  me,  love  my  dog." 

Though  quite  out  of  our  course,  we  returned  home  across 
the  "  Place  de  la  Concorde,"  and  stopped  for  at  least 
the  fiftieth  time  to  admire  the  beautiful  fountains.  These 
cost  government  an  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  dollars ! 
Do  I  not  betray  my  Yankee  origin  by  thus  inquiring  the 
price  of  every  thing  ?  But  public  buildings  and  public  or- 
naments are  on  such  a  different  scale  here  from  what  they 
are  at  home,  (ah  !  there,  in  relation  to  ornamental  works, 
there  is  no  scale  at  all,)  that  I  am  afraid  you  will  not  form  a 
correct  idea  of  their  elegance,  unless  I  occasionally  give 
you  an  account  of  the  expense  at  which  they  were  erected. 

But  I  have  by  divers  windings  and  turnings  spun  out  this 
letter  to  a  great  length ;  so  once  more  adieu. 


284  LETTERS. 


Paris,  August  2d. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

I  can  scarcely  believe  that  I  am  correct  in  thus  dating  my 
letter,  for  the  weather  is  as  cool  here  as  it  is  with  us  in 
October.  It  has  not  been  so  warm  since  we  have  been  in 
Paris  this  time,  as  it  was  when  we  were  here  in  April.  I  am 
obliged  to  wear  a  thick  dress  and  a  shawl  almost  every  time 
I  go  out.  I  believe  we  have  not  been  here  a  day  but  it  has 
rained  at  least  once,  and  a  gentleman  told  me  the  other  day, 
that  for  the  last  three  months  it  had  rained  on  an  average 
once  a  day.  Still  no  one  seems  to  mind  the  weather. 
Every  lady  goes  out  just  the  same  as  though  it  was  pleasant, 
and  for  us  travellers,  it  would  never  answer  to  "  lay  by  "  for 
a  little  rain,  so  we  have  been  very  busy  the  last  two  days. 

On  Saturday  we  started  to  go  to  St.  Denis,  and  never 
having  tried  omnibus  riding  in  Paris,  and  hearing  every 
body  telling  how  convenient  it  was  to  go  in  such  vehicles, 
we  thought  we  would  go  that  v/ay.  But  on  going  to  the 
office  in  Rue  Rivoli,  we  found  that  omnibuses  did  not  go 
direct  to  St.  Denis,  but  that  we  should  find  them  at  the  gate 
St.  Denis.  Now  this  was  at  least  a  mile  from  where  we 
were,  but  nothing  daunted,  we  walked  on,  till  we  overtook 
an  omnibus,  which  we  stopped,  and  I  asked  the  conductor  if 
he  went  to  the  gate  St.  Denis.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "by  cor- 
respondence." So  in  we  got,  and  no  sooner  were  we  seated 
and  our  seats  paid  for,  than  the  omnibus  stopped,  and  we 
were  told  to  dismount,  so  out  we  jumped.  Two  little 
tickets  were  thrust  into  our  hands,  and  we  were  told  to  get 
into  another  omnibus  near  by.  This  was  "  by  correspon- 
dence," so  by  paying  six  sous  a  piece,  and  changing  only 
once,  we  arrived  at  last  at  the  gate  St.  Denis,  and  a  beauti- 
ful gate  or  rather  arch  it  is. 

While  we  are  waiting  for  the  other  omnibus,  let  us  take  a 
near  survey  of  it.  It  is  seventy-two  feet  high,  and  has  three 
arches.    The  central  one  is  forty-three  feet  high  and  twenty- 


LETTERS.  285 

five  wide,  and  the  two  others  are  each  five  feet  wide  and  ten 
high.  The  whole  is  ornamented  with  rich  bas-reliefs.  (You 
may  not  be  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  terms  of  sculp- 
ture to  know  that  "  bas-reliefs,"  means  figures  standing  out 
in  slight  relief  from  a  surface.     Pardon  this  explanation.) 

After  waiting  "  a  spell,"  and  finding  no  omnibus  coming, 
we  began  to  make  inquiries,  and  then  we  found  that  we 
must  walk  on  a  little  distance  to  reach  it.  So  once  more 
we  started.  In  a  few  minutes  the  object  of  our  search  was 
obtained,  and  again  we  paid  our  six  sous  for  our  seats.  But 
again  we  stopped.  "  Is  it  possible  that  we  are  at  St.  Denis? 
Why,  it  is  the  shortest  two  leagues  we  ever  knew,"  and  we 
began  to  look  around  for  the  cathedral  ;  but  we  found  we 
were  there  not  quite  so  quick,  for  behold  another  omnibus 
waiting  for  us  !  so  after  taking  this  and  riding  along  for  some 
distance  on  a  wide  road  bordered  with  trees,  we  reached  the 
little  town  of  St.  Denis.  We  were  obliged  to  get  out  at  the 
omnibus  office,  though  at  some  little  distance  from  the 
church.  We  thought  we  were  quite  satisfied  with  our  ride, 
and  if  that  was  a  fair  specimen  of  the  conveniency  of  omni- 
buses, we  did  not  care  to  try  them  again.  After  a  short 
walk,  we  saw  the  white  Gothic  towers  of  the  church,  and 
soon  we  were  treading  within  its  consecrated  walls.  Oh! 
how  I  love  these  Gothic  churches  !  I  never  tire  of  visiting 
them.  I  never  tire  of  walking  up  and  down  the  lofty  aisles, 
of  gazing  upon  the  vaulted  ceiling,  the  arched  corridors, 
and  the  painted  windows,  through  which  the  softened  light 
streams  richly.  How  much  has  a  Romanist  upon  which  to 
feast,  shall  I  say  his  soul  ?  No  !  his  imagination.  In  the 
noblest  specimens  of  architecture  he  worships,  surrounded 
by  all  that  is  beautiful  in  the  fine  arts.  The  swelling  tones 
of  the  organ  steal  upon  him  almost  before  he  is  aware,  the 
waving  incense  loads  the  air  witli  its  perfume.  A  *'  dim 
religious  light "  pervades  the  church,  that  church  conse- 
crated to  him  as  the  resting  place  of  holy  relics,  and  in  the 
simplicity  and  fervor  of  his  heart  he  offers  up  his  devotions 
to  his  God. 


286  LETTERS. 

But  to  speak  particularly  of  the  Church  of  St.  Denis. 
Over  the  doorways  are  fine  carvings ;  the  two  towers  are  of 
unequal  height,  the  highest  one  having  at  the  top  several 
pinnacles  which  incline  inward,  as  though  they  were  ready 
to  fall.  The  interior  is  neat  and  grand.  The  vaulted  ceil- 
ing is  supported  by  magnificent  pillars  of  white  stone,  a 
gallery  runs  around  the  church,  of  small  light  arches,  be- 
hind which  are  the  windows.  In  the  choir  the  windows  are 
of  stained  glass,  and  the  many  colored  rays  of  light  play 
over  the  fretwork  of  the  arches  with  beautiful  effect.  All 
the  while  we  were  there  a  finely  toned  organ  was  sending 
forth  its  sweet  notes,  now  swelling  on  the  ear,  now  reverbe- 
rating among  the  pillars,  and  now  softly  dying  away. 

In  this  church  are  monuments  of  many  of  the  kings  of 
France,  and  here  their  remains  reposed  in  peace,  till  the 
revolution  of  1790,  when  they  were  disinterred,  and  thrown 
into  two  large  trenches  without  the  church.  In  1806  Napo- 
leon gave  orders  for  the  church  to  be  repaired,  and  the 
vaults  to  be  restored.  The  monuments  which  had  been 
preserved  in  one  of  the  museums,  were  brought  back  to 
their  original  places.  They  are  mostly  in  the  vaults  beneath. 
In  the  church  itself  the  most  beautiful  ones  are  those  of 
Louis  XII.  and  his  queen,  of  Henry  II.  and  Catherine  de 
Medicis,  and  of  Francis  I.  and  Claude,  his  queen.  The 
bodies  of  Louis  and  Anne  are  represented  on  a  cenotaph, 
surrounded  by  twelve  arches,  ornamented  with  arabesques, 
beneath  which  are  statues  of  the  twelve  apostles,  admirably 
done.  The  whole  rests  upon  a  pedestal,  sculptured  with 
bas-reliefs,  representing  the  battles  of  Louis  XII. 

The  monument  of  Henry  II.  and  Catherine  de  Medicis 
is  ornamented  with  twelve  columns  of  dark  blue  marble, 
and  the  same  number  of  pilasters  of  white  marble.  The 
figures  are  given  as  lying  on  a  bed,  and  the  likenesses  are 
said  to  be  admirable.  The  tomb  of  Francis  I.  is  beautiful. 
His  statue  and  that  of  his  queen,  lie  on  a  cenotaph,  orna- 
mented with  bas-reliefs  in  delineation  of  the  battles  of  Ma- 


LETTERS.  287 

rigina  and  Cerisolles.  An  arch  supported  by  sixteen  fluted 
pillars  rises  above  the  cenotaph,  on  which  are  five  kneeling 
statutes,  representing  the  king  and  queen,  and  their  children 
the  Dauphin,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  the  Princess  Char- 
lotte. 

Let  us  now  go  down  into  the  vaults.  Here  are  monu- 
ments almost  innumerable.  Nearly  every  one  is  surmounted 
by  a  recumbent  statue,  generally  well  executed,  sometimes 
having  the  feet  resting  upon  lions,  sometimes  upon  large 
birds,  and  in  one  or  two  cases  upon  serpents.  One  of  the 
statutes  of  a  female,  (I  forget  now  whose  it  is)  is  covered 
with  a  robe  plaited  in  the  most  perfect  manner.  I  have  seen 
countless  robes  hanging  in  folds,  but  I  never  before  saw  one 
plaited  and  confined  at  the  waist,  and  this  was  certainly  as 
perfectly  executed  as  though  done  in  muslin  instead  of  mar- 
ble. As  if  this  was  not  enough  to  render  it  inimitable, 
the  whole  robe  was  richly  embroidered,  the  figures  wrought 
as  delicately  as  though  done  with  a  fine  cambric  needle, 
instead  of  a  chisel. 

Time  would  quite  fail  me  to  give  you  the  names  of  all  the 
monuments ;  among  them  are  those  of  the  earliest  kings, 
the  marble  sarcophagus  in  which  Charlemagne  w^as  interred 
at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  in  short,  of  all  the  Henrys  and 
Philipses  and  Charleses,  and  Louises,  that  ever  sat  on  the 
throne  of  France.  I  wished  to  spend  several  hours  in  ex- 
amining this  interesting  church,  but  the  vaults  were  rather 
damp,  and  the  man  hurried  us  along,  as  though  we  were  as 
well  acquainted  with  the  monuments  as  he  was. 

Yesterday  morning,  or  rather  noon,  for  church  did  not 
commence  till  twelve  o'clock,  we  attended  service  in  the 
chapel  belonging  to  Col.  Thorn,  a  wealthy  American  resi- 
ding in  Paris.  It  is  a  nice  little  room,  carpeted  and  fur- 
nished with  chairs  covered  with  crimson  cloth,  and  having 
a  pulpit  and  desk  trimmed  with  crimson  velvet.  Here  we 
heard  our  own  service  with  no  additions  or  variations,  ex- 
cepting in  the  prayer  for  the  President  of  the  United  States 


288  LETTERS. 

the  dueen  of  Great  Britain  and  the  King  of  France  were 
named,  and  the  Gloria  Patri  was  said  at  the  end  of  each  of 
the  psalms  for  the  day. 

We  came  home  by  the  ''  Hotel  des  Invalides,"  and  once 
more  visited  the  church  where  Napoleon  rests.  We  saw 
much  more  of  the  church  than  we  were  able  to  see  before. 
It  is  small  but  beautiful,  and  is  ornamented  with  a  profusion 
of  bas-reliefs  around  the  sides.  The  dome  is  large,  and  is 
splendidly  painted  and  gilded.  It  is  no  wonder  that  there 
Napoleon  wished  to  be  buried.  We  were  allowed  merely  to 
take  a  glance  at  his  tomb,  as  there  was  a  crowd  waiting,  and 
it  was  near  the  time  for  closing  the  church.  The  man  who 
acted  as  '*  master  of  ceremonies  "  was  one  of  the  old  sol- 
diers connected  with  the  "  hotel."  He  kept  every  thing  in 
military  order.  We  all  had  to  go  up  in  regular  file  to  the 
grate,  before  the  tomb,  and  if  we  stopped  a  minute,  we 
were  told  to  hasten,  and  then  marshalled  down  again,  and 
thus  dozens  were  waiting  in  procession  for  their  time  to 
come. 

I  was  surprised  to  see  how  much  ground  there  was  about 
this  **  hotel."  Besides  a  large  park  or  garden,  there  are  two 
or  three  squares  where  the  soldiers  walk,  and  there  we  saw 
them  in  great  numbers,  some  without  a  leg,  others  without 
an  arm,  and  others  still  seeming  to  have  no  wounds. 
Among  them  I  noticed  a  stout  lookinor  African. 

To-day  we  have  been  to  Versailles.  The  principal  rail- 
road from  Paris  is  to  this  city,  celebrated  as  having  been  the 
seat  of  the  French  court  in  her  most  gorgeous  days.  It  is 
about  fifteen  miles  from  Paris,  and  we  were  a  half  hour  in 
going,  though  we  stopped  several  times.  We  designed  stop- 
ping at  Sevres,  where  is  the  celebrated  porcelain  manufac- 
tory, and  to  visit  the  palace  of  St.  Cloud,  from  which  the 
French  court  derives  its  name  ;  but  we  found  on  examina- 
tion that  our  permits  were  for  a  particular  day,  and  that  to- 
day was  not  the  special  day. 

The  exterior  of  the  palace  of  Versailles  is  not  very  fine, 


LETTERS.  269 

at  least  that  part  seen  from  the  town ;  it  is  composed  of  too 
many  kinds  of  architecture.  In  front  is  a  large  court.  No 
one  visits  the  palace  for  its  furniture,  for  it  can  boast  of 
none,  the  rooms  being  furnished  only  with  long  ottomans, 
covered  with  crimson  silk.  There  are  one  hundred  rooms 
open  for  exhibition,  in  which  are  more  than  four  thousand 
paintings,  not  pictures  of  imaginary  scenes,  of  saints,  or 
madonnas,  but  all  bearing  upon  the  history  of  France,  either 
battles,  or  various  scenes  in  which  her  kings  and  generals 
bore  a  conspicuous  part,  or  portraits  of  those  kings,  and  of 
foreign  kings  and  princes,  at  different  times  in  alliance  with 
the  nation.  This  renders  the  palace  such  an  interesting  place 
to  visit,  and  one  might  dwell  with  satisfaction  on  each  picture, 
and  from  each  derive  much  instruction.  They  furnished 
amusement  too,  from  the  variety  of  costumes  they  display. 
The  robes  of  the  kings  and  queens,  according  to  these  por- 
traits, must  have  been  rich  indeed,  for  they  abound  in  velvet 
and  embroideries.  Even  the  little  princes  and  princesses  were 
all  clothed  in  velvet,  and  their  cradles  and  cribs  covered  with 
velvet,  and  every  thing  about  them  indicating  the  utmost 
splendor. 

How  beautiful,  how  inexpressively  lovely,  are  the  faces  of 
some  of  the  queens  !  Among  the  many,  who  would  not  stop 
to  gaze  on  the  sweet  face  of  Blanche  of  Castile,  the  gentle 
loveliness  of  the  unfortunate  Marie  Antoinette,  the  grace  ol 
Maria  Louisa,  and  the  lofty  beauty  of  Maria  Lezinska, 
queen  of  Louis  XV?  But  why  enumerate?  Who  has  not 
read  of  the  beauty  of  the  former  queens  of  France  ?  Who 
has  not  read  of  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  their  courts  ?  If 
any  one  needs  confirmation  of  these  things,  let  him  visit  the 
magnificent  palace  of  Versailles,  and  tread  its  long  galleries, 
and  gaze  on  the  portraits  that  in  their  robes  of  velvet  and 
ermine  adorn  the  walls. 

There  are  two  splendid  halls,  one  having  no  pictures,  save 
those  on  the  ceiling,  but  having  the  walls  lined  with  mirrors, 
25 


290  LETTERS. 

the  other  having  in  addition  to  pictures,  busts  and  statues  of 
kings,  members  of  the  royal  family,  distinguished  generals, 
marshals  and  constables  of  France. 

Nor  must  I  forget  the  long  galleries  filled  with  statues 
and  monuments  of  all  the  kings,  many  of  them  similar  to 
those  we  saw  in  the  church  of  St.  Denis.  Some  looked  so 
funny,  I  could  not  help  laughing.  One  queen  had  on  a 
bodice  very  tight  around  the  waist,  sleeves  very  small,  and 
the  skirt  of  the  dress  bulging  out  below  the  waist,  something 
like  the  present  fashion,  certainly  not  a  fine  costume  to  be 
represented  in  marble. 

Besides  these  rooms,  others  are  shown  formerly  occupied 
by  the  monarchs  and  their  families.  Of  these  I  shall  only 
mention  the  bed-chamber  of  Louis  XIV.  There  we  saw 
the  bed  on  which  that  distinguished  person  died.  The  room 
is  almost  covered  with  gilding.  On  the  ceiling  is"  a  splendid 
painting  by  Paul  Veronese,  brought  by  Napoleon  from 
Venice.  Around  the  bed  is  a  gilded  balustrade  ;  the  spread 
and  hangings  are  of  rich  embroidery,  and  the  chairs  are 
covered  with  the  same  material. 

Adjoining  this  room  is  the  council  chamber,  which  is 
also  much  gilded.  In  it  is  a  large  centre  table  covered 
with  a  magnificent  cloth  of  green  velvet. 

In  the  palace  is  a  fine,  large  chapel,  the  ceiling  richly 
painted  and  supported  by  beautiful  pillars.  All  the  seats 
are  covered  with  crimson  velvet. 

But  the  grounds  around  the  palace,  what  shall  I  say  of 
them  ?  If  I  say  they  are  the  most  extensive,  and  the  most 
magnificent  of  any  that  we  have  yet  seen,  I  fear  even  this 
will  not  convey  any  adequate  idea  of  their  vastness,  their 
splendor.  Fine  avenues  of  trees,  rare  flowers,  fountains, 
and  statuary,  all  combine  to  render  this  a  most  charming 
spot.  As  I  told  you  in  one  of  my  letters,  the  fountains  do 
not  play  often.  When  they  do,  it  is  at  the  cost  of  twenty 
or  thirty  thousand  francs,  the  water  having  to  be  brought  a 
orreat  distance. 


LETTERS.         -  291 

To  the  different  villas  erected  in  different  parts  of  this 
park,  we  could  not  gain  access,  so  we  could  not  see  "  Le 
Grand  Trianon,"  the  favorite  retreat  of  Louis  XIV.,  Louis 
XV.,  and  Louis  XVL,  nor  "  Le  Petit  Trianon,"  connected 
with  touching  interest  with  the  fate  of  Marie  Antoinette. 

We  then  returned  to  Paris  by  the  rail-road.  A  very  sin- 
gular arrangement  on  this  road  is,  that  the  passengers  are 
all  locked  in  the  cars,  so  that  at  each  stopping  place  no  one 
can  get  out  without  the  knowledge  of  the  conductor.  So 
prone  are  the  French  to  commit  suicide,  that  some  have 
been  known  to  throw  themselves  from  the  cars  while  going, 
to  seek  death  in  that  way  ;  and  it  is  to  prevent  this,  as  well 
as  to  guard  against  being  cheated  out  of  the  fare,  that  the 
precaution  is  taken  of  fastening  the  doors. 

One  more  letter  from  Paris,  and  then  we  leave  it,  perhaps 
forever.     As  always,  yours. 


Paris,  Aug.  3. 
My  dearest  P.  : 

This  morning  we  started  quite  early  to  visit  some  of  the 
markets,  but  we  had  not  gone  far  before  we  repented  of  our 
attempt,  for  it  was  raining  quite  fast,  and  the  streets  and 
sidewalks  were  wretchedly  dirty  ;  however,  tucking  up  my 
dress  under  my  arms,  according  to  the  approved  fashion  of 
French  ladies,  I  trudged  along.  I  dont  know  where  the 
proverbial  politeness  of  the  French  is ;  I  do  not  see  it.  I 
have  never  yet  seen  a  Frenchman  who  would  turn  from  the 
sidewalk  to  let  a  lady  pass,  but  however  wet  and  dirty  the 
streets  may  be,  she  must  step  from  the  walk  if  she  wishes 
to  pass  by  a  gentleman.  I  have  often  been  obliged  to  step 
into  a  gutter,  or  to  jump  over  one,  to  get  by  gentlemen,  or 
to  allow  them  to  get  by  me.  Now  if  this  is  politeness,  why 
defend  me  from  such,  say  I ;  I  never  saw  such  things  at  home, 


292  LETTERS. 

not  even  among  the  roughest  backwoodsmen.  Neither  are 
the  ill  manners  here  confined  to  the  "  gentlemen  ;  "  if  you 
meet  a  servant  in  the  street,  having  a  large  or  small  bundle 
on  his  back,  you  must  stand  aside  to  let  him  pass,  or  else  run 
the  risk  of  having  your  head  knocked  off  your  shoulders. 
It  is  little  things  like  these  that  make  walking  in  Paris 
unpleasant,  particularly  where  there  are  narrow  sidewalks 
and  dirty  streets.  For  my  part,  I  have  got  more  knocks 
and  thumps  in  one  week  in  Paris,  than  I  ever  got  in  all  my 
life  in  the  streets  at  home.  I  get  so  provoked  some- 
times, that  I  thump  back  with  a  vengeance.  Forgiving, 
is'nt  it  ? 

We  went  to  the  market  "  Des  Innocens,"  so  called,  be- 
cause it  occupies  the  site  of  the  former  burying-ground  of 
the  Church  of  the  Innocents.  It  is  a  long,  low  build- 
ing around  an  open  court,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a 
beautiful  fountain ;  but  precious  little  could  we  see  of  any 
thing  but  rain,  mud,  and  a  crowd  of  people,  who  were 
making  all  sorts  of  noises,  each  trying  to  excel  the  other  in 
crying  up  their  different  articles,  and  in  striving  to  gain 
our  attention.  Here  we  saw  vegetables  and  fruit  in  abun- 
dance, though  I  think  fruit  is  dear  here,  in  proportion  to  the 
great  quantity  there  is  always  for  sale.  In  another  part  of 
the  market,  were  potatoes  and  onions,  in  another  fish,  in 
another  butter,  eggs,  and  cheese,  and  in  still  another,  herbs 
dried  and  fresh,  and  a  plenty  of  leeches  ready  for  appli- 
cation. 

After  walking  about  till  J.'s  boots  grew  spotted,  and  his 
pants  around  the  bottom  became  almost  tri-colored,  and  my 
shoes  looked  like  any  thing  but  black  kid,  and  my  stock- 
ings not  much  like  black  silk,  we  concluded  to  return 
home. 

J.  was  obliged  to  spend  some  time  this  morning  in  making 
the  final  arrangements  previous  to  leaving,  and  I  sat  down 
to  write,  thinking  what  a  nice  opportunity  I  should  have  to 
fill  out  my  journal,  but  such  a  set  of  steel  pens,  no  mortal 


LETTERS.  293 

man,  or  woman  either,  ever  had  to  do  with  ;  so  after  scrib- 
bling a  dozen  lines,  each  letter  having  to  be  marked  over 
and  over  again,  before  it  would  be  a  letter,  and  this  opera- 
tion costing  me  a  half  hour's  time  and  labor,  I  gave  up  in 
despair,  and  went  out  in  pursuit  of  more  pens.  Having 
bought  a  dozen,  and  thoroughly  mudded  my  dress  and  my 
new  shoes,  I  returned  home,  not  without  stopping  at  the 
corner  of  one  of  the  streets,  to  have  my  shoes  restored  to 
their  original  color.  I  believe  I  have  not  before  noticed, 
except  in  an  incidental  manner,  that  worthy  class  of  citi- 
zens, the  boot-blacks ;  they  certainly  deserve  a  more  ample 
description.  At  the  corner,  then,  of  the  principal  streets, 
you  will  see  the  worthy  boot-black  leaning  against  a  post  or 
pillar,  (if  there  happens  to  be  one  near,  if  not,  mayhap  he 
is  seated  on  the  curb-stone  ;)  before  him  is  a  little  square  box, 
on  top  of  which  is  a  raised  board  in  the  shape  of  the  sole 
of  a  shoe.  Have  you  by  chance,  in  crossing  the  street,  or 
by  a  carriage  passing  near  you,  had  the  polish  taken  off  of 
your  well  blacked  boots  ?  Step  up  here,  place  your  foot  on 
the  little  box,  and  in  a  trice  it  is  restored  to  its  pristine  ele- 
gance and  brilliancy.  Within  this  little  box  the  important  im- 
plements of  his  profession  are  held,  and  one  by  one  in  charm- 
ing order,  they  are  produced  and  used,  till,  with  a  smile  of 
satisfaction  on  his  face,  the  honest  blacker  pronounces  his 
work  *'  bien."  If  you  ask  him  what  is  to  pay,  he  will  shrug 
his  shoulders,  and  say,  "Oh,  what  you  please,  three  or  four 
sous,"  and  with  another  smile  of  satisfaction,  he  pockets  the 
money,  says  *'  merci  bien,"  (many  thanks,)  wishes  you  a 
good  morning,  and  then  looks  out  for  another  customer.  If 
no  one  comes  within  a  few  minutes,  he  seats  himself  upon 
his  box,  and  in  a  little  while  is  fast  asleep.  However,  he  is 
easily  aroused  by  a  needy  pair  of  boots  or  shoes  coming 
towards  him  ;  indeed  I  am  not  sure  but  that  he  smells  such 
a  pair  whilst  yet  afar  off,  for  he  often  opens  his  eyes  and 
starts  up  just  at  the  right  time. 

This  certainly  must  be  a  lucrative  trade  in  a  city  where 
25* 


294  LETTERS. 

it  seems  to  be  the  rule  to  rain  once  a  day,  and  the  streets 
so  easily  get  dirty,  and  where  each  carriage  in  passing  you 
combines  to  throw  a  little  mud  upon  your  perhaps  best  suit ; 
for  I  forgot  to  say  that  the  boot-black  has  also  a  set  of 
brushes  for  clothes,  so  that  a  pair  of  pants  or  a  coat  may  be 
cleaned  in  a  moment.  And  this  reminds  me  of  a  little  anec- 
dote that  I  heard  the  other  day.  One  of  these  men  had  a 
dog  with  a  large,  bushy  tail,  which  he  taught  him  to  dip  in 
the  gutter,  and  when  he  saw  a  well-dressed  man  approach- 
ing, to  run  quickly  by  him,  thereby  rubbing  his  tail  well 
against  his  pants.  Then  the  boot-black  would  politely  step 
forward,  and  ask  if  he  should  have  the  honor  of  brushing 
Monsieur's  clothes,  and  thus  he  obtained  a  goodly  share  of 
patronage. 

1  wonder,  by  the  way,  what  the  technical  term  for  these 
blackers  is,  perhaps  it  is  boot  merchants,  as  every  body  here 
is  called  merchant.  If  a  man  with  a  bag  full  of  old  clothes, 
or  maybe  with  a  pair  of  pantaloons  and  one  vest  over  his 
arm,  passes  you  in  the  street,  he  sings  in  your  ears  "  mar- 
chand  d'habits,"  (clothes  merchant),  or  if  another  meets 
you  bearing  in  his  hand  two  old  beavers,  he  will  drawl  out 
in  a  nasal  tone,  **  marchand  des  chapeaus,"  (hat  merchant.) 
One  who  sells  charcoal,  if  it  is  only  by  a  thimble-full,  is  no 
longer  a  '*  charcoal  man,"  as  with  us,  but  a  "  coal  mer- 
chant," while  the  old  woman  who  sells  cakes  for  a  sous 
apiece,  and  sugar  plums  and  candy  at  the  lowest  possible 
rates,  is  a  "  cake  merchant,"  and  she  who  on  her  stand 
displays  five  pears,  four  plums,  six  apricots,  and  a  few  green 
figs,  is  a  "  fruit  merchant."  By  the  way,  green  figs  are  a 
great  article  here,  and  I  like  them  much,  though  at  the  first 
trial  I  could  not  endure  the  taste.  They  are  soft,  pulpy, 
and  very  sweet.  The  summer  has  been  so  cold  they  do  not 
ripen,  so  they  are  brought  green  into  market.  The  weather 
is  as  much  the  topic  of  conversation  here,  as  it  sometimes  is 
among  us  at  home,  when  embarrassed  to  know  what  to  talk 
about.      All    here  look  gloomy  when  the  weather  is  men- 


LETTERS.  295 

tioned.  They  say  there  will  be  no  crops,  and  no  wine,  for 
the  grapes  will  not  ripen.  Already  bread  has  risen,  and  if 
bread  is  scarce,  I  know  not  what  the  poor  people  will  do, 
for  it  is  really  "  the  staff  of  life  "  to  them.  Poor  things  !  I 
do  not  believe  they  taste  meat  once  a  week.  I  have  seen  as 
I  passed,  men  and  women  in  the  poorer  kind  of  shops  eating 
their  plain  dinner.  They  gather  around  no  family  table, 
but  take  a  large  junk  of  black  bread  in  one  hand,  and  a 
piece  of  dingy  looking  cheese  or  an  onion,  in  the  other, 
and  this  constitutes  their  principal  meal,  so  that  if  bread 
does  rise  much,  they  will  be  badly  off  indeed.  I  have  seen 
the  cab  drivers  on  their  box,  make  their  dinner  from  the 
same  materials ;  in  short,  it  is  all  that  this  class  of  people 
ever  seem  accustomed  to.  Now  and  then  a  few  roasted 
chestnuts  are  considered  a  great  luxury.  These  are  about 
as  large  as  four  or  five  of  our  chestnuts ;  and  often  at  the 
corners  of  streets,  you  will  see  the  "  chestnut  merchants," 
with  their  little  furnaces  before  them  ready  to  honor  the 
demands  of  those  who  may  be  in  need. 

But  I  have  wandered  far  from  my  steel  pen  subject.  After 
I  returned  I  met  with  no  better  success.  I  could  not  find 
out  of  the  whole  dozen,  one  that  would  make  a  letter, 
so  I  quickly  gave  up  the  attempt  to  write,  and  began  to  pack 
my  trunks.  J.  returned  about  three,  saying  that  all  the 
seats  in  the  Diligence  were  taken  up  except  the  Coupe,  so 
he  engaged  that,  and  to-morrow  morning  we  are  off.  So 
now  for  "  merry  England."     Good  night. 


Dieppe,  Wednesday  eve. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

I  did  not  expect  to  write  to  you  again  till  we  got  into 
England,  but  on  arriving  here  this  evening,  we  found  the 
steamer  not  yet  in,  so  we  were  obliged  to  come  to  a  hotel. 
While  waiting  for  dinner,  and  in  hourly  expectation  of  being 


290  LETTERS. 

called  to  the  boat,  I  use  the  time  in  writing  you  a  short 
letter,  which  is  a  rare  thing  for  me,  my  letters  being  gene- 
rally far  removed  from  short.  As  we  found  Paris  in  the  rain, 
so  did  we  leave  it,  and  dreary  and  dirty  were  the  streets,  as 
we  rode  through  them  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  to- 
wards "  Notre  Dame  des  Victoires,"  the  place  of  our  de- 
parture. There,  notwithstanding  the  rain,  we  found  a  busy 
scene,  a  half  dozen  Diligences  being  ready  to  set  off  in 
different  directions.  Hackney  coaches  and  cabs  were 
coming  and  going  with  passengers  and  baggage.  Soon  we 
were  on  our  way.  We  bade  farewell  to  the  Boulevards  as 
our  vehicle  lumbered  along  through  the  almost  deserted 
streets,  presenting  a  startling  contrast  to  the  brilliancy  and 
splendor  they  display  in  the  evening. 

We  then  wended  our  way  through  the  narrow  streets  of 
the  suburbs.  I  believe  I  have  never  told  you  how  these 
streets  are  lighted.  Lanterns  are  suspended  in  the  air  in  the 
middle  of  a  street,  by  a  chain  passing  from  the  second  or 
third  story  of  opposite  houses,  thus  lighting  well  the  centre 
of  the  streets,  but  leaving  the  foot  passenger  at  the  side  to 
grope  his  way  as  he  best  can. 

We  had  for  our  companion  in  the  Coupe,  an  interesting 
man  who  spoke  English  very  well,  and  who  was  better  informed 
on  English  and  American  literature  than  any  foreigner  we 
have  met.  He  seemed  as  well  acquainted  with  Cooper  and 
Irving  and  Scott,  as  we  did,  and  with  our  country,  its  moun- 
tains, lakes,  and  rivers,  its  politics  and  history.  He  did  not 
ask  us,  like  two  young  Englishmen  we  met  at  Naples,  how 
our  country  was  governed,  and  what  connection  it  had  with 
Great  Britain.  When  they  saw  our  surprise  at  the  ques- 
tions, they  apologized  by  saying  that  they  did  not  meddle 
much  with  politics !  I  wanted  to  tell  them  that  they  seemed 
to  meddle  still  less  with  history.  Doubtless  they  were  trav- 
elling for  information,  for  they  were  intelligent  on  every 
other  subject ;  but  I  thought  if  they  had  staid  at  home  and 
studied  another  year,  it  would  have  profited  them  more  than 
going  to  Italy.     But  I  have  digressed  again. 


LETTERS.  297 

We  were  nearly  fifteen  hours  in  the  Diligence.  We  had 
quite  a  pleasant  ride,  as  much  so  as  a  shower  of  rain  every 
half  hour  could  make  it,  through  a  really  pleasant  country, 
slightly  hilly,  well  cultivated  and  well  watered.  We  saw 
immense  fields  of  grain,  seeming  to  struggle  to  get  ripe,  and 
vineyards,  not  quite  so  thrifty  looking  as  those  we  saw 
further  south.  For  several  miles  before  reaching  Dieppe, 
we  passed  delightful  groves,  indeed  I  may  say  forests,  and 
beautiful  meadows  bounded  by  the  neat  hawthorn  hedge. 

Before  leaving  the  Diligence  for  ever,  allow  me  to  call 
your  attention  to  the  queer  way  in  which  the  horses  are 
harnessed.  Generally  we  have  had  seven  horses,  first  two 
abreast,  then  three,  then  two  again.  They  are  commonly 
ridden  by  postilions,  though  a  man  calling  himself  the  con- 
ductor sits  on  top,  on  an  elevated  seat,  whence  he  can  have 
a  view  of  the  whole  establishment.  It  is  his  place  to  see  to 
the  passengers  and  baggage,  the  postilion  has  merely  the 
care  of  the  horses.  But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  how  oddly 
the  horses  are  harnessed.  One  w^ill  have  an  entire  new 
harness,  the  next  a  very  old  one,  w^hile  on  a  third,  sundry 
pieces  of  rope  supply  the  deficiencies  made  by  time  and 
rough  usage.  One  will  have  on  a  collar  a  foot  and  a  half 
high,  and  his  companion  none  at  all.  Some  part  of  this 
motley  gear  is  constantly  breaking,  so  that  we  rarely  go  more 
than  a  mile  or  two  without  the  postilion,  with  an  inde- 
scribable whoop,  calling  on  his  horses  to  stop,  and  as  quickly 
dismounting  as  his  large,  high  boots  will  allow  him  to,  con- 
necting the  shattered  parts  with  rope  and  twine. 

When  we  stopped  at  the  office  in  Dieppe,  there  was  such 
a  crowd  as  I  never  before  saw  on  a  like  occasion.  Cards  by 
the  dozen  were  thrust  into  our  hands,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  heard  the  names  of  more  than  twenty  different  hotels. 
As  I  was  stepping  from  the  Diligence,  a  pretty  little  girl 
raised  her  dark  eyes  to  my  face,  and  in  a  gentle,  supplicating 
voice,  asked  if  I  wanted  a  washerwoman. 

At  dinner  this  evening,  the  waiter   was  telling  us  how 


298  LETTERS. 

many  passengers  were  waiting  for  the  steamer.  We  asked 
him  if  there  were  any  Americans  (we  being  on  the  lookout 
for  Mr.  T.)  He  said  one  of  them  talked  diiferently  from  the 
rest,  and  so  he  thought  he  must  be  an  American.  I  said, 
*'  Wherein  was  the  difference?  "  "  Ch,"  said  he,  "  he  did 
not  speak  so  good  English."  He  then  proceeded  to  tell  us, 
with  much  self-complacency  in  his  powers  of  observation, 
that  as  soon  as  he  saw  us  he  knew  we  were  Americans,  and 
that  he  informed  the  landlord  of  the  fact.  I  asked  him  how 
he  knew.  At  first  he  would  not  answer,  leaving  us  to  infer 
that  there  was  a  masonic  sign  about  our  nation ;  at  last  he 
confessed  that  none  of  them  spoke  good  English  !  So  much 
for  his  testimony.  I  could  have  told  him,  that  so  far  as  my 
observation  went,  the  reverse  was  the  fact,  it  was  the  English 
that  did  not  speak  correctly;  but  I  did  not  think  it  of 
sufficient  consequence  to  continue  the  subject  any  longer. 
Besides,  I  was  too  tired  and  too  sleepy,  and  too  anxious  to 
finish  my  letter.  It  is  about  ten  o'clock,  and  as  there  is  no 
certainty  what  time  the  steamer  will  arrive,  I  shall  compose 
myself  for  the  night,  and  go  to  sleep  as  unconcernedly  as 
though  I  did  not  expect  every  moment  to  be  called.  And  so 
good  night  to  you. 


Brighton,  Friday  eve.- 
My  dear  p.: 

At  last  we  are  in  England  !  No  more  do  I  hear  the  clatter 
of  strange  tongues ;  all  around  me  a  familiar  language  is 
spoken,  and  I  can  scarcely  realize  that  I  am  in  any  other 
land  than  my  own.  Even  now  as  I  sit  writing,  the  cries  of 
children  engaged  in  play  reach  my  ears,  and  ever  and  anon, 
I  catch  a  familiar  word,  such  as  "  hurra  !  "  and  "  no  play  !  " 
I  do  not  remember  of  seeing  in  any  place  in  France,  Italy  or 
Switzerland  such  a  gathering  of  children  together,  as  I  have 
seen  here  assembled  in  the  streets.    When  on  the  continent. 


LETTERS.  299 

we  often,  in  visiting  palaces,  churches  or  museums,  caught  a 
word  or  two  of  our  own  language,  and  we  would  quickly 
whisper  one  to  another,  ''  they  are  English  or  Americans." 
Even  so,  when  we  first  walked  out  here,  and  heard  persons 
conversing,  we  would  say,  "  hark !  they  must  be  either 
Englishmen  or  Americans,"  entirely  forgetting  that  we  were 
in  England. 

But  you  will  think  I  have  forgotten  too  every  thing  else, 
if  I  run  on  in  this  discursive  manner,  so  I  will  quietly  go 
back  to  our  night  at  Dieppe.  By  twelve  o'clock  we  were 
aroused  from  our  sleep  by  the  information  that  the  boat  was 
to  start  at  one.  We  quickly  arose,  dressed  ourselves,  and 
went  on  board,  and  I  was  asleep  in  my  berth  before  we  left 
the  wharf  But  what  a  terrible  rough  night  we  had  !  I 
believe  all  the  passengess  were  sick  but  myself  I  begin  to 
think  that  I  am  so  tough  that  I  can  endure  any  thing.  If  I 
come  home  from  any  excursion,  "tired  almost  to  death,"  a 
half  hour's  rest  will  perfectly  restore  me,  and  then  I  am 
ready  to  start  off  again.  I  can  get  up  early,  and  I  can  sit 
up  late.  I  can  eat  any  thing  I  like,  and  nothing  hurts  me. 
Am  I  not  the  right  one  then  to  be  tossed  about  from  one 
place  to  another,  in  all  sorts  of  conveyances,  and  subject  to 
all  kinds  of  living  ?  Have  no  fears  then  on  my  account,  for 
I  never  was  stronger  nor  healthier  in  my  life. 

But  I  have  wandered  from  the  steamer.  I  lay  near  a 
window,  and  I  could  see  the  waves  dashing  down  upon  us, 
as  though  they  were  going  to  overwhelm  us.  I  scarcely 
ever  saw  it  rougher  when  we  were  on  the  open  Atlantic. 
As  we  drew  near  the  shores  of  England  it  became  rougher 
and  rougher.  The  skylights  were  all  closed,  so  that  al- 
though it  was  broad  daylight,  we  were  in  midnight  darkness 
in  the  cabin.  I  never  knew  any  thing  so  uncomfortable. 
We  could  not  land  at  the  pier  at  Brighton,  but  were  obliged 
to  land  two  miles  beyond  the  town.  There  we  waited  some 
time,  till  a  train  of  cars  coming  along,  we  jumped  in  and 
came  to  town. 


300  LETTERS. 

Before  leaving  the  steamer  we  were  told  that  we  should 
not  be  permitted  to  take  any  of  our  baggage  ashore,  but  that 
it  should  be  sent  on  after  us.  At  Dieppe  I  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  put  in  my  pocket  (a  good  sized  one  by  the 
way),  the  cameos  and  ornaments  I  had  bought  in  Rome  and 
other  places.  Judge  then  of  my  consternation  when  on 
coming  out  of  the  boat,  a  custom-house  officer  stopped  me, 
saying,  "What  have  you  in  your  basket?"  I  answered, 
"  My  writing  apparatus  and  my  brushes."  He  held  out  his 
hand,  saying,  "May  I  look  in?"  Although  a  basket  made 
of  alabaster  was  stowed  away  in  the  bottom  of  it,  I  readily 
gave  it  up.  He  lifted  the  cover,  but  seeing  my  inkstand 
and  pens,  closed  it  again.  Another  question  —  "  Have  you 
any  thing  foreign  about  you  ? "  Oh  thought  I,  "  I  guess 
you  would  think  so,  if  you  could  see  the  trinkets  stowed 
away  in  my  pocket."  However,  for  once,  my  forethougjit 
instead  of  coming  afterwards  as  usual,  came  at  the  right 
time,  and  I  immediately  answered,  "  Yes,  I  am  a  foreigner 
myself,  and  all  that  I  have  on  is  foreign ;  are  you  satisfied?  " 
"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  "you  may  pass."  And  glad  was  I  to 
get  here  where  I  could  empty  my  pocket. 

We  were  able  to  do  but  little  in  the  sight-seeing  line 
yesterday,  for  it  was  twelve  o'clock  before  we  got  here ;  then 
we  ha^  to  wait  for  our  breakfast.  To  be  sure,  it  was  a  simple 
one,  boiled  eggs  and  dry  toast.  This  has  been  our  breakfast 
for  two  months  past.  Are  we  not  plain  in  our  tastes  when  we 
are  surrounded  by  all  the  luxuries  one  can  think  of?  But 
we  enjoy  a  frugal  breakfast,  at  noon  a  slight  luncheon,  and 
then  at  night,  after  the  labors  of  the  day  are  over,  a  hearty 
dinner. 

At  one  we  were  ordered  to  be  at  the  custom-house,  so 
there  we  betook  ourselves.  We  had  to  inscribe  our  names 
in  a  book,  that  our  turn  should  come  in  regular  order. 
Then  we  had  to  wait  an  hour  at  least.  Tedious  enough 
it  was  too.  In  vain  I  tried  to  amuse  myself  in  noticing 
the  examinations  going  on  with  others'   baggage.     I    had 


LETTERS.  301 

passed  through  the  ordeal  too  often  myself,  to  take  pleasure 
in  seeing  it  inflicted  upon  another.  We  saw  enough, 
however,  to  lead  us  to  suppose  that  our  own  examination 
would  be  rigorous,  and  waited  rather  anxiously  for  our 
names  to  be  called.  Glad  was  I  that  my  gewgaws  were 
locked  up  in  our  room  at  the  hotel.  At  length  our  turn 
came  ;  and  what  do  you  think  was  the  first  question  asked  by 
the  officer  as  he  stooped  to  unlock  my  trunk  ?  It  was, 
"How  long  have  you  been  from  the  States?"  I  said  to 
myself,  "  How  is  it  that  I  have  so  soon  betrayed  my  nation? 
Have  I  already  been  guilty  of  speaking  in  improper 
English?"  These  mental  queries  were  soon  ended  by  the 
officer  saying,  **  I  knew  as  soon  as  I  saw  your  trunks  that 
you  were  from  the  States ;  they  are  too  strong  and  too  stout 
to  have  been  made  elsewhere." 

Then  commenced  the  search ;  it  was  light  in  comparison 
with  our  expectations,  but  severe  enough  in  all  conscience. 
Several  times  we  were  asked  if  we  had  "  any  thing  against 
the  government."  Now  we  knew  that  if  we  said  "No,"  and 
any  thing  was  found  in  our  possession  subject  to  duty,  we 
should  have  to  pay  a  heavy  fine,  so  we  were  cautious  in  our 
answers,  and  said  that  we  had  nothing  as  far  as  we  knew ; 
we  had  some  books  and  some  engravings,  but  nothing  to  be 
left  in  England,  as  we  were  on  our  way  home.  Then  they 
said  "  Are  the  books  in  English  ?  "  I  answered  "  Yes,  mostly  ; 
some  are  in  French,  and  two  or  three  in  Latin."  They 
looked  at  my  boots  and  my  gloves,  and  asked  if  they  had 
been  worn.  I  said  "  Yes,"  for  I  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  wear  at  least  once,  a  half  dozen  pairs  of  French  boots, 
and  a  dozen  pairs  of  gloves,  (these  articles  being  very 
cheap  in  Paris,  I  had  laid  in  a  supply.)  At  last  I  got  out  of 
all  patience  with  these  provoking  questions,  and  I  turned 
coolly  away,  saying,  "  You  have  the  keys,  you  can  see  for 
yourself  what  there  is  in  the  trunks."  J.  was  so  much  ex- 
hausted after  his  sickness  the  night  before,  that  he  could 
take  but  little  part  in  what  was  going  on.  Besides,  I  had 
26 


302  LETTERS. 

SO  long  been  "  spokeswoman  "  in  France,  that  it  seemed  to 
come  quite  handy.  Indeed  you  well  know  that  1  am  gene- 
rally not  backward  in  speaking  my  mind. 

On  engravings  we  were  charged  duty ;  on  dark  ones  one 
penny,  and  on  colored  ones  two  pence,  so  that  we  had  to 
pay  nearly  four  dollars.  Fortunately  for  us  they  did  not 
discover  the  half  we  had,  for  many  of  them  were  in  the 
books,  put  away  from  dust  and  dirt.  Now  for  the  last  time 
the  fiery  ordeal  has  been  passed  ;  henceforth  we  have  nothing 
to  do  with  passports  and  examinations  of  baggage.  It  will 
seem  indeed  as  though  we  are  in  a  strange  land  and  amid 
new  scenes.  After  we  came  home  from  the  custom-house, 
we  laid  aside  our  travelling  garb,  and  put  on  our  next  best, 
(for  you  must  know  we  made  our  first  acquaintance  with 
England  in  the  rain,)  and  sallied  out  to  take  a  view  of  the 
town,  and  a  very  pretty  town  it  is  too.  It  lies  directly  on 
the  sea,  so  that  at  this  season  it  is  a  great  place  of  resort  for 
bathers.  The  streets  are  quite  wide,  and  well  macadamized, 
and  the  houses  are  really  very  pretty.  In  some  streets,  the 
houses  are  built  in  one  particular  style.  The  favorite  fashion 
is  what  at  home  we  call  the  "  bureau  style,"  having  a  pro- 
jecting, semicircular  front.  You  have  one  specimen  of  this 
style  in  your  own  city,  the  house  belonging  to  Mr.  H.  in 
Westminster  street.  In  all  the  houses  of  this  style  here 
there  is  a  little  balcony  in  front  of  the  second  story,  and 
over  this  an  awning.  Some  of  the  houses  look  as  though 
they  were  paved,  the  outside  being  of  small  round  stones, 
like  our  paving  stones.  Almost  aH  the  houses  have  neat 
little  gardens  in  front.  The  street  facing  the  beach,  or  as 
they  call  it  here  "the  sands,"  is  broad  and  has  elegant 
houses,  mostly  of  light  grey  stone.  These  houses  are  chiefly 
occupied  by  boarders.  I  could  not  but  gaze  upon  the  sea 
with  loving  eyes,  for  I  thought  that  some  of  the  waves 
that  came  breaking  in  upon  the  beach,  mayhap  had  kissed 
the  shore  of  my  own  native  land. 

You  don't  know  what  cunning  little  carriages  they  have 


LETTERS.  303 

here ;  they  are  perfect  little  barouches,  only  they  are  drawn 
by  men  instead  of  horses.  I  presume  they  are  for  those 
invalids  who  cannot  bear  the  motion  of  a  large  carriao-e, 
and  that  it  is  quite  common  to  use  them,  I  inferred  from 
meeting  so  many  in  the  streets,  and  from  seeing  the  number 
**  forty  "  on  one.  I  saw  still  smaller  carriages,  for  children ; 
these  were  drawn  by  little  goats. 

There  are  some  fine  looking  churches  in  Brighton,  and 
several  public  gardens  and  squares,  or  not  exactly  "  squares," 
as  they  are  of  all  shapes.  Nor  must  I  forget  the  royal  pal- 
ace called  the  "Pavilion."  It  is  a  large  though  rather  a 
low  building  in  the  Turkish  style,  I  should  judge  from  the 
dome  and  the  minarets  that  rise  from  all  parts  of  the  roof. 
Though  of  singular  architecture,  I  like  it  much.  Here  Queen 
Victoria  sometimes  spends  a  part  of  the  summer  months. 

But  most  of  all  do  I  like  Brighton  for  its  magnificent 
sea  view.  The  waves  came  in  grandly  yesterday.  All  along 
the  beach  were  multitudes  of  little  bathing  wagons,  like 
those  we  see  at  Newport.  I  should  have  been  tempted  to 
have  tried  a  bath  myself,  if  it  had  not  been  so  very  cool. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  riding  here  yesterday,  people 
coming  to  the  races,  I  suppose.  The  most  of  the  horses 
were  ridden  by  postilions,  while  the  groom  was  mounted  on 
the  box,  and  two  or  three  servants  sat  on  a  seat  fixed  behind 
called  a  "  rumble." 

We  were  amused  in  reading  the  signs  here.  We  saw 
"Coachman  to  the  Queen,"  "Chemist  to  her  Majesty,"^ 
"  Wagon  Carriers  to  her  Majesty,"  "  Tobacconist  to  his 
Majesty,"  meaning  I  presume  the  late  king,  as  Prince 
Albert  is  only  called  "  His  Royal  Highness."  But  the 
funniest  of  all  was  "  Tailor  to  her  Majesty."  Now  I  have 
always  heard  that  she  wore  "  the  small  clothes,"  but  I  never 
knew  before  that  she  had  to  employ  a  tailor  to  make  them ! 

After  dinner  we  took  another  walk.  The  streets  were 
well  lighted,  and  many  of  the  shops  presented  quite  a  bril- 
liant appearance.     It  was  a  noisy  scene,  and  we  met  more 


304  LETTERS. 

drunken  men  in  one  hour,  than  we  have  seen  in  all  our  tour. 
The  races  being  held  here  this  week,  may  make  some  dif- 
ference. There  was  quite  a  "  row  "  before  the  theatre,  so 
that  we  had  hard  work  to  get  by.  This  did  not  seem  like 
the  quiet  streets  of  France  and  Italy.  To  be  sure  the 
streets  of  Paris  are  not  so  very  quiet,  but  its  noise  is  the 
rattling  of  carriages  and  the  busy  tread  of  men,  and  the 
low  hum  of  voices,  and  not  of  idle,  drunken  persons. 

And  how  strange  it  seems  here  to  see  so  few  soldiers ! 
We  saw  one  or  two  parading  before  the  "  Pavilion,"  but 
how  different  from  the  hundreds  one  meets  at  about  every 
step  in  Paris.  The  uniform  here  is  good ;  scarlet  jackets 
and  dark  blue  pants  look  much  finer  than  the  coarse  red 
pantaloons,  and  dark  coats  of  the  common  soldiers  of 
France. 

We  have  spent  the  most  of  the  day  to-day  in  witnessing* 
the  horse  races.  Think  us  not  vulgar  in  our  tastes,  for 
many  of  the  nobility,  far  and  near,  patronize  these  races ; 
nay,  many  of  the  riders  of  the  races  are  noblemen.  The 
country  back  of  Brighton  rises  in  gentle  hills,  and  among 
these  hills  the  races  take  place.  The  race  course  is  two 
miles  long,  sweeping  round  one  of  the  hills.  On  either  side 
of  the  course,  an  enclosure  is  fenced  off  for  people  on  foot, 
and  back  of  this  are  places  for  carriages.  We  went  early 
that  we  might  get  a  good  stand.  I  should  think  we  walked 
two  miles  in  going  to  the  ground.  All  along  we  passed 
^carts  and  tents  full  of  gipsies,  ragged  and  dirty.  One  little 
boy  followed  us  for  some  distance,  trying  to  coax  a  ha'penny 
from  J.,  by  calling  him  "  a  fine  gentleman,"  and  telling  him 
that  he  was  "  born  to  be  lucky,  for  he  had  a  lucky  eye." 

On  the  ground  were  numerous  tents  and  stands,  but  every 
thing  of  the  kind  seemed  tame  after  the  display  in  the 
Champs  Elysees.  The  races  lasted  from  one  till  six,  with 
an  interval  of  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour  between  each 
race.  I  had  a  first-rate  place,  and  I  stood  there  six  hours 
without  sitting  down.    1  dared  not  go  away  for  fear  of  losing 


LETTERS.  205 

my  stand.  You  ask  me  how  I  could  have  had  the  patience 
to  have  waited  there  so  long.  I  answer  by  sayina  that  it 
was  something  quite  new  to  us,  and  therefore  interesting 
from  its  novelty  ;  besides,  these  races  are  among  the  char- 
acteristic recreations  of  the  English.  Of  course  you  cannot 
expect  me  to  enter  into  details  of  these  sports.  The  horses 
were  beautiful  specimens  of  their  kind,  long  and  slender, 
and  very  fleet.  The  riders  were  dressed  in  fanciful  costumes, 
some  in  scarlet  cap  and  jacket  and  white  breeches,  others  in 
buff  and  blue;  all  wore  top-boots.  The  riders  seemed 
almost  to  stand  up  in  the  stirrups,  in  order  that  their  weight 
should  be  no  hindrance  to  the  speed  of  the  horse.  The 
crowds  were  excited  and  animated,  and  shouted  with  eager 
glee  as  the  racers  passed.  In  the  last  race  the  horses  leaped 
over  three  different  fences. 

During  the  intervals  between  the  races,  great  trafficking 
was  going  on.  The  first  part  of  the  day  the  loudest  cry 
was,  "Cards,  gentlemen,  correct  cards  of  the  races,"  and 
this  was  echoed  and  re-echoed  from  every  side,  sometimes 
varied  with  a  "  Card,  my  lady,"  (to  me),  and  to  J.,  *'  Now 
your  honor,  buy  this  card."  Then  came  the  sellers  of  fruit, 
and  apples  and  pears  were  cried  in  every  tone  of  voice,  with 
sundry  epithets  of  admiration,  as  "  Nice,  mellow,  ripe, 
quite  ripe,  melt  in  your  mouths."  A  man  with  an  armful 
of  canes  then  passed,  and  he  kept  singing,  *'  A  penny  is  the 
price,  a  penny  is  the  price,"  till  I  got  heartily  tired  of  the 
sound,  and  was  thankful  to  see  his  stock  diminished;  when 
lo!  he  returned  with  a  new  supply,  but  to  my  great  joy  he 
changed  his  tune  to  "■  Two  pence  for  these,  your  honors." 
Venders  of  cigars  next  appeared  on  the  stage,  and  "  Cigars, 
gents,  and  a  light,"  was  all  the  cry.  And  ginger  beer  too 
was  offered  in  small  bottles  for  a  penny  apiece,  and  soda 
water,  not  at  all  tempting  in  its  appearance,  and  a  drink 
which,  though  called  lemonade,  I  felt  not  the  slightest  incli- 
nation to  taste. 

At  last,  after  standing  for  more  than  six  hours,  and  walk- 
26* 


306  LETTERS. 

ing  four  miles,  we  reached  our  hotel,  and  I  felt  really  but 
little  fatigued.  And  so  have  passed  our  first  two  days  in 
this  "■  sea-girt  isle."  And  pleasant  as  it  is  thus  to  be  in 
our  own  father-land,  yet  this  pleasure  has  some  drawbacks, 
for  in  hearing  a  language  spoken  with  which  we  are  per- 
fectly familiar,  we  hear  words  of  profanity  and  vulgarity, 
which  long  have  been  strangers  to  our  ears.  And  talk  about 
the  Americans  not  speaking  the  English  language  properly  ! 
I  never  heard  such  outlandish  jargon  in  all  my  life,  "^s  I 
have  heard  to-day,  and  that  too  from  well-dressed  persons. 

While  we  were  at  our  quiet  dinner,  (for  we  dined  by 
ourselves),  we  heard  music.  Turning  towards  the  window, 
we  saw  a  young  man  and  girl  dancing  on  stilts.  Quite  a 
novel  way  of  dancing,  but  they  managed  their  wooden  sup- 
porters with  much  dexterity,  and  it  was  amusing  to  see  them, 
after  they  had  finished,  walk  around  with  their  little  cups 
for  pay ;  being  so  elevated,  they  were  on  a  level  with  the 
second-story  windows  of  the  houses  around. 

But  I  have  time  to  say  no  more  now ;  so  adieu. 


London,  August  9th. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

It  is  now  twenty  weeks  since  I  looked  my  last  on  your 
dear  face,  and  ere  ten  more  have  passed,  I  hope  to  be  seated 
once  more  by  your  fireside,  where  with  you  and  all  the  cher- 
ished ones  I  hold  in  my  heart,  we  may  once  more  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  social  communion.  I  cannot  now  stop  to  tell 
you  how  much  I  long  to  see  you  all,  for,  as  you  plainly  per- 
ceive, I  use  but  little  space  in  my  letters  for  sentiment  or 
compliments. 

And  now  we  are  in  London,  that  "  great  city."  If  as 
some  say,  "  First  impressions  are  every  thing,"  then  have  we 


LETTERS.  307 

occasion  to  be  pleased  with  ours,  for  they  are  very  favora- 
ble in  this  instance.  Thus  far  we  like  this  city  much. 
The  streets  are  quite  wide  and  very  clean,  and  the  houses 
uniform  and  handsome,  though  rather  sombre.  I  speak  now 
particularly  of  the  newer  and  more  fashionable  parts  of  the 
city.  We  are  in  one  of  the  most  airy  and  pleasant  streets, 
just  out  of  '*  Portland  Place,"  at  an  excellent  private  board- 
ing house,  where  are  several  Americans,  and  some  very 
pleasant  English  people. 

We  left  Brighton  Saturday  morning  in  the  stage-coach,  a 
little  bit  of  a  thing  inside,  not  much  larger  than  one  of  our 
hackney  coaches,  but  calculated  to  accommodate  quite  a 
number  of  passengers  outside.  Two  can  sit  with  the  coach- 
man, three  on  an  elevated  seat  behind ;  besides  these,  seats 
are  arranged  across  the  top.  I,  being  totally  unaccustomed 
to  ridincr  on  the  outside,  took  a  seat  in  the  interior,  though 
several  ladies  were  on  top.  But  I  repented  of  my  decision 
before  we  had  gone  many  miles,  for  these  coaches  are  hung 
so  low,  that  I  could  see  but  little  of  the  country  through 
which  we  passed. 

In  riding  outside,  one  pays  but  half  price.  I  do  not  know 
whether  this  is  a  general  rule,  it  was  so  in  this  coach.  J. 
rode  on  the  outside,  so  that  I  was  quite  by  myself;  that  is, 
there  were  a  gentleman  and  an  old  lady  inside,  but  neither 
of  them  spoke  a  half  dozen  words.  J.  was  quite  amused 
with  a  young  lady  who  sat  beside  him.  She  was  intelligent 
and  sociable,  and  conversed  with  ease  and  fluency.  But 
what  remark  do  you  think  she  made  in  relation  to  our  own 
country  ?  Why,  that  as  much  as  she  would  like  to  see 
America,  she  would  not  dare  visit  it,  as  the  people  were 
such  savages  she  should  fear  for  her  life !  Only  think 
of  that !  I  suppose  she  imagines  that  we  are  all  Indians. 

The  road  was  good,  but  not  so  surpassingly  good  as  ray 
anticipations  led  me  to  expect.  W^e  went  about  as  fast  as 
in  the  Diligence,  but  stopped  oftener  to  set  passengers  down 
and   to  take   in  others,   and  more  time  was  consumed   in 


308  LETTERS. 

changing  horses  than  in  the  Diligence.  These  little  things 
struck  me,  as  I  had  so  often  heard  that  the  roads  and  the  speed 
in  England  were  unrivalled.  Had  I  come  directly  from 
home,  I  dare  say  I  should  have  thought  the  roads  perfect, 
but  after  travelling  on  the  excellent  roads  on  the  continent, 
we  have  more  exalted  notions. 

The  country  was  pleasant  and  quite  well  cultivated,  and 
it  had  a  sort  of  home  look,  more  than  any  of  the  countries 
through  which  v»'e  have  passed.  The  houses  had  a  cleaner 
and  more  comfortable  aspect,  and  it  seemed  so  rural  to  see 
cattle  quietly  grazing  in  the  fields.  We  saw  no  walls,  no 
fences,  nothino-  but  hedjres. 

Yesterday  morning  we  started  to  find  the  church  where 
Mr.  Noel  preaches,  which  our  landlady  told  us  was  some- 
where near  Bedford  square,  and,  by  the  way,  she  seemed 
surprised  to  find  that  we  Americans  were  so  well  acquainted 
with  the  names  of  English  clergymen ;  indeed  in  several 
cases  we  were  more  conversant  with  them  than  she  was,  for 
on  inquiring  about  Mr.  Melville,  whose  praise  is  in  all  our 
land,  she  had  never  heard  the  name. 

After  studying  out,  on  our  pocket  map  of  London,  the 
situation  of  Bedford  square,  we  started  off  to  find  it.  We 
certainly  walked  two  miles  before  we  came  to  the  square,  in 
the  centre  of  which  is  a  beautiful  little  park  or  garden,  sur- 
rounded by  handsome  houses.  Indeed  in  all  our  walk  we 
passed  none  other  ;  that  is,  they  are  high,  plain,  substantial 
stone  houses,  though  all  of  rather  a  darkened  hue.  Many  of 
them  have  shops  on  the  lower  floor,  which  are  entered  by 
the  same  door  as  the  house. 

We  came  to  a  church,  and  as  it  was  getting  late,  we  went 
in,  without  knowing  whose  it  was.  The  service  was  already 
commenced  ;  it  was  read  in  a  solemn  and  impressive  man- 
ner by  a  middle-aged  clergyman,  and  the  sermon  was 
preached  by  a  younger,  and  what  we  at  home  would  call  a 
foppish  looking  man.  It  was  an  excellent  sermon,  however, 
and  entirely  extemporaneous,  the  speaker    for    some  time 


LETTERS.  S09 

holding  his  little  bible  in  his  hand ;  and  as  he  would  refer  to 
some  passage  in  explanation,  or  confirmation  of  his  text, 
the  congregation  would  follow  him,  nearly  all  having  bibles 
with  them.  I  inquired  of  a  lady  who  sat  near  me  if  she 
knew  the  clergyman's  name ;  she  said  it  was  Hughes.  As 
this  was  our  first  acquaintance  with  an  English  church,  you 
will  pardon  me  if  I  speak  a  little  more  about  the  manner  of 
conducting  service.  The  church  is  small,  but  it  has  a 
gallery  around  three  sides  of  it,  so  that  it  can  seat  a  good 
many  people.  It  was  very  full,  the  responses  were  well 
made,  and  the  singing  joined  in  heartily  by  all.  In  fact 
there  was  a  printed  notice  at  the  door,  requesting  all  the 
congregation  to  unite  in  the  singing.  What  would  some  of 
our  exclusive  singers  at  home  say  to  that  ? 

The  clerk,  who  occupied  a  seat  below  the  pulpit,  had  a 
real  sing-song  tone,  and  I  could  scarcely  keep  from  smiling 
to  hear  him  give  the  hymn,  he  drawled  it  out  so  drolly.  As 
soon  as  the  number  of  the  hymn  was  given,  the  organ 
struck  up,  and  the  tune  was  played,  and  then  the  clerk 
read  the  first  two  lines,  and  that  was  all  he  read.  And  well 
that  he  stopped  when  he  did,  for  I  could  not  possibly  have 
heard  him  read  more  without  laughing. 

We  came  home  at  noon,  took  a  little  lunch,  and  once 
more  started  for  Mr.  Noel's  church.  After  a  long  walk,  we 
succeeded  in  finding  it,  but  I  could  not  help  stopping  and 
uttering  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  for  it  looked  more  like 
one  of  our  old  brick  school  houses  than  a  church.  On  top 
was  a  little  bit  of  a  belfry,  from  which  came  the  sound  of  a 
tinkling  bell,  exactly  like  a  school  bell.  The  interior  is 
plain  and  neat.  The  pulpit  and  desk  are  cushioned  with 
crimson  velvet.  Up  and  down  the  aisles,  little  seats  are 
fixed  against  the  pews,  between  the  doors.  I  soon  conjec- 
tured by  the  thinness  of  the  audience,  that  Mr.  Noel  was 
not  going  to  preach.  I  have  not  before  heard  the  afternoon 
service,  and  it  sounded  quite  strangely  to  me,  though  I 
know  not  as  it  is  always  conducted  on  the  same  plan.    After 


310  LETTERS. 

the  second  lesson  a  hymn  was  sung,  instead  of  a  chant,  but 
it  was  not  from  the  prayer  book,  but  from  a  collection  pre- 
pared by  Mr.  Noel  himself.  This  sounded  rather  "  square 
windowy,"  I  thought.  The  sermon  was  good,  though  rather 
dull,  by  an  oldish  man  who  was  almost  bald.  He  is  the 
curate,  I  believe.  The  clerk  wore  a  very  rich  black  robe; 
a  nicer  looking  one  even  than  the  minister's.  We  met  him 
as  we  came  out,  and  we  asked  him  if  Mr.  Noel  was  to 
preach  in  the  evening,  and  he  said  "  Yes ;  "  but  though  I 
felt  anxious  to  hear  him,  I  was  quite  too  tired  to  think  of 
going  so  long  a  distance  again. 

We  passed,  in  our  walk  to  and  from  church,  a  half  dozen 
parks,  which  certainly  add  a  great  deal  to  the  appearance  of 
a  city  like  London,  in  which  some  relief  is  needed,  after 
seeing  nothing  but  dark-colored  houses.  These  parks, 
however,  are  quite  exclusive,  there  being  a  notice  over  the 
gates  that  no  one  is  allowed  to  walk  in  them,  but  those  who 
live  in  the  squares  around  them.  The  gates  are  locked  all 
the  time,  each  family  having  a  right  to  the  park,  keeping 
a  key. 

In  the  morning  as  we  went  to  church,  we  saw  a  commo- 
tion in  the  street,  and  a  huddling  together  of  men,  women, 
and  children.  On  looking  up  we  saw  a  chimney  on  fire. 
Several  police  men  gathered  around,  and  two  engines  were 
quickly  on  the  spot,  though  nothing  in  the  world  was  to  be 
seen  but  a  little  smoke,  which  is  certainly  no  novel  sight  in 
London.  Either  the  Londoners  are  very  much  afraid  of 
fire,  or  they  are  ready  to  run  in  crowds  at  every  little  thing ; 
a  little  of  both,  I  suspect  to  be  the  case.  The  rows  of 
houses,  though  so  compactly  built,  are  admirably  arranged 
for  preventing  fire  from  progressing,  for  between  every  two 
houses  it  is  required  that  there  should  be  a  wall  at  least 
eighteen  inches  thick. 

As  we  came  home  at  noon  we  met  great  numbers  of  girls, 
each  having  in  her  hand  a  pitcher  or  mug  of  beer.  Almost 
every  family  seemed  to  be  thus  refreshing  themselves,  in 
addition  to  their  Sunday  dinner. 


LETTERS.  31 1 

This  morning  on  going  to  the  banking  house  of  Messrs. 
Baring,  J.  found  two  letters  from  you,  which  afforded  us  a 
vast  deal  of  pleasure.  After  lunch,  which  we  have  here  at 
one  o'clock,  we  went  to  the  Zoological  Garden,  one  of  our 
gentlemen  boarders  kindly  giving  us  tickets  of  admission, 
as  no  one  is  allowed  to  go  in  without  a  ticket  from  one  of 
the  members  of  the  society,  and  even  then,  each  one  is 
obliged  to  pay  a  shilling.  On  going  to  the  garden  we  passed 
through  Regent's  Park,  which  has  lately  been  thrown  open 
to  the  public.  It  is  a  most  beautiful  park  of  over  four  hun- 
dred acres  in  extent,  and  is  intersected  by  roads  and  walks. 
It  is  a  fashionable  place  for  promenade,  and  here  nurses  and 
children  are  seen  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  as  well  as  ladies 
and  young  misses,  while  handsome  carriages,  with  their  liv- 
eried attendants,  are  dashing  here  and  there,  adding  variety 
to  the  scene.  In  the  park  itself  there  is  a  good  deal  of 
sameness ;  here  you  pass  along  a  path  bordered  with  trees, 
and  there  across  a  wide,  open  glade,  covered  with  grass  of 
the  richest  green,  and  in  some  places  it  would  seem  that  you 
were  actually  in  the  country,  as  cows  and  sheep  are  grazing 
near,  were  it  not  that  through  the  trees  you  catch  glimpses 
of  the  elegant  houses  around  the  park. 

The  Zoological  Garden  is  also  a  fashionable  place  of 
promenade.  "  Flowers  of  every  hue  adorn  the  gay  par- 
terre," trees  of  every  clime  throw  their  grateful  shade 
around.  Here,  too,  is  almost  every  kind  of  animal  in  the 
known  world.  I  should  judge  the  collections  larger  than 
that  in  Paris,  not  more  in  numbers,  but  a  greater  variety  of 
species.  They  are  all  very  tame,  even  those  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  call  the  most  ferocious.  They  would  run  to  the 
bars  of  their  cage  as  soon  as  a  visitor  appeared,  and  open 
their  mouths  for  something  to  eat.  The  goats  and  deer  ate 
from  our  hands,  the  different  kinds  of  dogs  set  up  a  furious 
barking  and  yelling,  not  from  antipathy  to  us,  but  from  a 
desire  to  be  fed,  and  the  very  bears  jumped  up  on  their  hind 
legs,  and  raised   their   fore  paws  in   a  beseeching  manner. 


312  LETTERS. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  garden  are  stands  for  bread  and  cake, 
an  abundance  of  which  is  bought  by  visitors,  for  the  mere 
purpose  of  feeding  the  animals.  It  is  useless  for  me  to  give 
you  the  names  of  the  animals  we  there  saw,  for  in  your  own 
city  you  often  have  opportunities  to  see  quite  good  collec- 
tions. 

We  spent  two  or  three  hours  in  wandering  about  the  vast 
enclosure,  for  it  was  a  lovely  afternoon,  quite  like  a  sum- 
mer's day.  There  were  a  great  many  people  in  the  garden 
while  we  were  there,  in  fact,  as  I  told  you  before,  it  is  a 
fashionable  place  of  resort.  In  one  year  one  hundred  and 
twelve  thousand  persons  were  admitted. 

After  dinner,  which  is  at  six  o'clock,  we  started  to  go  to 
Paternoster  Row,  near  St.  Paul's,  to  Wiley  and  Putnam's 
bookstore.  After  walking  till  I  verily  thought  we  should 
never  get  there,  we  at  last  found  the  street,  though  it  was  so 
late  the  office  was  closed.  We  walked  at  least  seven  miles, 
one  of  our  boarders,  well  acquainted  with  London,  says  that 
it  was  nine.  So  you  see  we  begin  to  equal  the  English 
themselves  in  walking.  I  assure  you  that  I  feel  tired  too, 
and  as  it  is  now  near  midnight,  I  think  I  may  be  excused  if 
I  retire  ;  so  a  good  night  to  you. 


London,  Wednesday. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

To  say  that  we  have  been  "  as  busy  as  a  bee,"  would  be 
a  faint  comparison,  and  would  convey  no  adequate  idea  of 
the  use  we  have  made  of  our  feet,  eyes  and  tongues,  the  past 
two  days,  as  you  will  see,  when  I  tell  you  where  we  have 
been  and  what  we  have  seen.  Yesterday  morning  immedi- 
ately after  breakfast  (don't  think  it  was  soon  after  sunrise, 
we  breakfast  at  nine,)  we  went  to  St.  Paul's.  We  went  into 
Portland  street  and  got  into   an  omnibus,  and  were  carried 


LETTERS.  313 

the  whole  distance,  more  than  two  miles,  for  a  sixpence. 
Carriage  hire  is  dear  here,  the  charges  being  made  by  the 
mile.  If  you  go  in  a  cab  one  mile,  you  are  charged  one 
shilling  sterling,  about  twenty-one  cents  our  money;  if  more 
than  a  mile,  an  extra  shilling  is  put  on,  and  so  on  for  each 
additional  mile.  This  seems  strange  to  us  after  our  cheap 
rides  on  the  continent. 

St.  Paul's  is  a  noble  edifice,  a  splendid  church,  at  least  as 
far  as  regards  the  exterior.  Indeed  the  architecture  is 
superb,  and  I  think  the  front  even  more  impressive  than 
that  of  St.  Peter's.  It  wants  the  open  space  though,  in 
front  of  St.  Peter's,  for  it  is  seen  to  great  disadvantage,  sur- 
rounded as  it  is  by  so  many  buildings.  There  is  a  beautiful 
portico  in  front,  consisting  of  twelve  Corinthian  pillars ;  over 
this  is  another  supported  by  eight  columns  of  the  composite 
order.  On  each  side  rises  a  tower,  in  one  of  which  is  the 
clock,  in  the  other  the  bells.  Over  the  centre  is  the  mag- 
nificent dome.  The  east  end  is  semicircular,  and  is  orna- 
mented with  some  fine  sculpture,  and  at  the  end  of  the  arms 
of  the  cross  is  a  semicircular  portico.  The  whole  is  sur- 
rounded by  an  iron  railing  which  cost  eleven  thousand 
pounds.  In  front  of  the  church,  within  the  railing,  is  a 
statue  of  Queen  Anne,  holding  in  her  hands  the  emblems  of 
royalty.  She  is  accompanied  by  figures  representing  Great 
Britain,  Ireland,  France  and  America,  though  like  the 
drawings  in  a  child's  first  book,  one  must  tell  you  their 
names  before  you  can  find  out  what  they  are.  So  much  for 
the  exterior,  and  now  for  the  interior.  It  is  grand,  and  yet 
it  does  not  strike  the  beholder  with  awe  ;  perhaps  it  would 
have  been  better  for  us  to  have  visited  it  before  seeing  the 
churches  in  Italy.  The  whole  length  of  the  building  within 
the  walls  is  five  hundred  feet.  The  nave  is  separated  from 
the  rest  of  the  church  by  two  rows  of  massy  pillars,  and  from 
the  choir  by  a  large  door  of  open  iron  work,  over  which  is 
the  organ.  The  interior  of  the  dome  is  painted  in  fresco,  so 
finely  as  perfectly  to  imitate  sculpture.  The  choir  is  plain, 
27 


314  LETTERS. 

though  rich ;  the  seats  are  of  dark  oak.  There  are  no 
ornaments  in  the  church,  no  side  chapels,  no  altars,  to  break 
in  upon  the  uniformity,  but  there  are  many  monuments,  and 
the  walls  in  several  places  are  sculptured  in  bas-reliefs. 
Among  the  monuments,  I  noticed,  as  particularly  interesting 
to  me,  those  of  Lord  Nelson,  John  Howard,  Sir  William 
Jones,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Sir  John  Moore,  Dr.  Johnson, 
Marquis  Cornwallis,  and  Bishop  Middleton,  all  having 
sculptured  figures,  some  of  them  very  good,  others  very 
poor.  Many  of  the  officers  are  represented  in  their  uniforms, 
which,  however  becoming  they  may  have  been  during  life, 
are  not  at  all  imposing  in  marble. 

Bishop  Middleton  is  in  his  robe,  in  the  act  of  confirming 
two  boys ;  the  robe  is  wretchedly  done.  The  monument  to 
Nelson  is  fine.  On  the  top  stands  the  naval  hero  leaning 
on  an  anchor.  Beneath,  on  his  right,  Britain  is  represented 
pointing  him  out  to  young  seamen,  as  an  example  and 
a  model  to  them.  A  lion  guards  the  monument  on 
the  other  side.  On  the  corners  of  the  pedestal  are  the 
words  *'  Copenhagen,  Nile,  Trafalgar,"  and  between  them, 
figures  representing  the  North  Sea,  the  Nile,  and  the 
Mediterranean. 

Howard  stands  trampling  upon  chains  and  fetters  ;  in  one 
hand  he  carries  the  key  of  a  prison,  and  in  the  other  a  scroll, 
on  which  is  written  "Plan  for  the  Improvement  of  Prisons 
and  Hospitals."  But  I  must  certainly  not  forget  one  monu- 
ment, which  struck  me  so  much  that  I  copied  the  inscrip- 
tion. "  Erected  at  public  expense,  to  the  memory  of  Major 
General,  the  Hon.  Sir  Edward  Pakenham,  K.  B.,  and  of 
Major  General  Samuel  Gibbs,  who  fell  gloriously  on  the 
8th  of  January,  1815,  whilst  leading  the  troops  to  an 
attack  of  the  enemy's  works  in  front  of  New  Orleans  1  " 
"  Fell  gloriously  !  "  If  this  encomium  is  passed  on  them, 
what  epithet  shall  be  applied  to  Andrew  Jackson,  who  gained 
the  victory  in  which  they  fell?  On  top  of  the  monument  are 
the  two  renowned  heroes  in  their  uniforms. 


LETTERS.  8lS 

Neither  would  I  pass  by  in  silence  a  monument  erected  to 
the  Rev.  John  Spratt,  which  gave  rise  to  a  query  in  our  own 
minds,  whether  it  was  the  veritable  "  Jack  Spratt"  of  poetic 
memory. 

The  monuments  and  the  sculpture,  and  the  whole  of  the 
interior  of  St.  Paul's,  are  in  a  miserable  state  of  preserva- 
tion. The  statues  are  really  disfigured  by  the  dust  and  dirt, 
and  the  floor,  which  is  of  marble,  does  not  look  as  if  it  had 
been  cleaned  since  it  was  first  laid. 

As  we  entered  the  church,  the  pealing  notes  of  the  organ 
met  our  ears.  We  went  into  the  choir,  where  service  was 
being  performed.  There  were  several  priests  and  boys  all 
in  surplices.  They  were  chanting  at  the  end  of  the  second 
lesson  when  we  entered.  The  organ  is  powerful  and  of  fine 
tone.  The  creed  was  said  in  such  a  sing-song  tone,  and 
the  priests  and  the  boys  chanted  the  "  amen,"  and  the  versi- 
cles  before  the  prayers,  in  such  a  queer  way,  that  really,  if 
it  had  not  been  too  sacred  for  mirth,  I  should  have  laughed. 
We  started  to  go  up  to  the  dome,  when  we  were  stopped  by 
a  man,  and  told  that  it  would  cost  us  four  shillings  two 
pence  each,  nearly  two  dollars,  to  see  all  the  different  parts 
of  the  church.  However,  we  were  determined  to  see  the 
view  from  the  top  of  the  church,  so  we  paid  seven  shillings, 
and  went  up.  We  had  not  gone  up  a  dozen  stairs,  before 
we  were  stopped,  and  another  shilling  demanded,  and  but  a 
little  farther  our  progress  was  again  arrested,  and  we  were 
told  that  if  we  would  see  the  geometrical  staircase  and  the 
library,  still  another  shilling  must  be  forthcoming.  On  this 
I  got  wrathy,  and  told  the  man  we  had  paid  enough  already, 
and  that  we  did  not  want  to  see  any  library  or  staircase, 
though  I  confess  my  curiosity  was  a  little  excited  to  know 
what  a  geometrical  staircase  meant.  I  told  him  we  could 
go  all  over  St.  Peter's  at  Rome  without  paying  a  sixpence. 
He  did  not  seem  to  like  it,  and  I  don't  care  if  he  did'nt. 
I  had  been  three  months  where  I  could  not  scold  much  if  I 
wanted  to,  and  I  have  not  now  found  the  use  of  my  native 
tongue  for  nothing. 


316  LETTERS. 

At  length  we  came  to  the  roof,  and  went  inside  of  the 
dome.  Here  is  another  whispering  gallery.  We  went  one 
side,  and  a  man  stood  opposite  to  us,  and  whispered  some- 
thing ;  all  I  heard  was  "  a  shilling  and  sixpence,"  (quite  as 
familiar  words  to  him  as  any  other,  I  dare  say,)  for  there 
were  some  workmen  over  our  heads  who  made  such  a  clat- 
tering, that  we  could  not  hear  loud  talking,  to  say  nothing 
of  whispering.  Then  this  man  shut  one  of  the  gallery 
doors,  and  the  noise  was  quite  startling,  sounding  like 
thunder. 

After  leaving  this  gallery,  we  wound  around  in  the  dark, 
till  we  came  to  the  top  of  the  dome,  but  when  there,  we 
found  that  the  view  was  greatly  impaired  by  the  smoke  and 
fog  that  enveloped  us.  We  saw,  indeed,  enough  to  convince 
us  that  London  is  a  magnificent  city,  at  least  in  respect  to 
size.  We  could  see  the  Thames  quite  plainly,  as  it  mean- 
dered along,  and  tile  and  copper  roofs  beneath  us,  and 
spires  in  abundance  around  us,  and  occasionally  an  opening 
where  green  trees  brightened  the  prospect,  but  the  smoke 
or  fog  or  something  else  lay  often  in  such  thick  masses,  that 
it  was  impossible  to  penetrate  it.  The  air  was  loaded  with 
noxious  vapor,  that  was  almost  intolerable  to  us.  "  What  a 
horrid  smell,"  I  said,  and  I  turned  to  another  side  away 
from  the  wind,  but  still  it  followed  me.  I  could  not  com- 
pare it  to  any  thing,  but  imagining  myself  to  be  in  a  coal 
cellar,  where  a  quantity  both  of  charcoal  and  hard  coal  had 
just  been  thrown,  the  vile  dust  of  which  filled  the  air,  and 
while  the  odor  was  yet  in  my  nose,  to  add  to  it  the  smell 
of  strong  coffee  while  boiling.  You  will  smile  at  this 
homely  comparison,  nevertheless,  it  is  as  true  a  one  as  I  can 
give  you. 

After  waiting  on  that  elevated  spot  nearly  an  hour,  hoping 
the  air  would  become  clearer,  we  went  up  by  almost  perpen- 
dicular stairs,  and  by  a  straight  ladder,  till  we  got  inside  of 
the  ball ;  but  here  as  I  attempted  to  look  out,  the  wind  blew 
so  violently,  that   it  took  my   bonnet,  and  even  my   hair. 


LETTERS.  317 

almost  off  my  head,  so  that  I  thought  it  was  high  time  to 
go  down. 

And  thus  ended  our  visit  to  St.  Paul's.  If  all  sight-seeing 
in  England  is  on  so  expensive  a  scale,  one  would  soon  ex- 
haust a  small  fortune.  But  I  certainly  must  not  forget  to 
tell  you,  that  we  went  up  no  less  than  five  hundred  and 
eighty-seven  stairs  in  reaching  the  top.  I  assure  you  it  re- 
quired no  little  patience  in  counting  them,  and  yet  counting 
was  the  easiest  part. 

There  are  some  beautiful  shops  around  St.  Paul's,  in  which 
are  as  fine  articles  and  as  finely  arranged  as  in  Paris.  We 
went  once  more  into  '*  Paternoster  Row,"  a  singular  name, 
by  the  way,  for  a  street,  ''  Our  Father  Row ; "  but  it  was  so 
named  because  here,  in  the  days  of  Romish  superstition, 
were  manufactured  heads  and  other  articles  used  by  adhe- 
rents to  that  faith.  It  is  quite  a  narrow  street,  and  is  mostly 
occupied  by  booksellers.  At  Wiley  &  Putnam's,  one  of 
the  publishers  was  so  kind  as  to  give  us  several  American 
newspapers,  the  first  we  have  seen  since  leaving  Marseilles ; 
you  may  well  imagine  they  were  eagerly  devoured  by  us. 
Near  this  street  is  the  new  Post-office,  a  spacious  and  ele- 
gant building,  adorned  with  three  porticoes  of  the  Ionic 
order  of  architecture.  You  may  have  some  idea  of  the  vast 
deal  of  business  done  here,  when  I  tell  you  that  more  than 
five  hundred  individuals  are  constantly  employed  in  this 
establishment,  and  that  a  half  million  letters  pass  through  it 
every  week.  Besides  this  central  office,  little  branch  offices 
are  established  in  different  parts  of  the  city,  and  post-men 
go  from  them  four  times  a  day,  so  that  if  you  want  to  send 
a  note  to  any  individual  in  the  most  remote  part  of  the  city, 
you  have  only  to  drop  it  into  one  of  these  little  offices,  and 
you  have  an  answer  in  an  hour  or  two. 

After  lunch  we  went  to  the   Colosseum,  a  large  building 

surmounted  by  a  dome,  and  having  a  beautiful  Doric  portico 

in  front.    It  was  built  for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  Horner's 

Panorama  of  London,  which  covers  forty  thousand  feet  of 

27* 


318  LETTERS. 

canvass.  It  was  taken  from  the  top  of  St.  Paul's,  and  the 
artist  was  employed  three  years  upon  it.  He  must  have 
taken  up  his  abode  in  those  elevated  regions  while  sketch- 
ing it,  for  he  certainly  could  not  mount  up  all  those  stairs 
many  times  a  week.  It  is  a  grand  thing,  and  gives  you  a 
most  complete  idea  of  the  vastness  of  the  city.  All  lies 
before  you,  palaces  and  parks,  churches,  hospitals,  and  asy- 
lums, schools,  and  houses,  the  river,  and  the  countless  boats 
on  its  surface,  and  to  heighten  the  resemblance,  carriages 
and  horses,  and  people  in  the  streets. 

This  morning  we  found  a  real  English  rain  when  we 
awoke,  and  we  began  to  think  what  we  should  do  with  our- 
selves, for  our  time  was  too  precious  to  admit  of  our  spend- 
ing a  whole  day  in  our  room.  At  breakfast  we  were  assailed 
on  all  sides  with  questions.  Our  fellow  boarders  think  we  are 
so  persevering  in  sight-seeing,  that  they  were  actually  glad 
there  was  such  a  rain,  and  one  and  another   said,  "  Well, 

Mrs. ,  you   certainly  will  not  think  of  going  out  in  this 

deluge."  We  took  it  all  very  coolly,  and  assured  them  it 
was  such  a  grand  time  to  see  the  British  Museum,  that  we 
could  not  let  the  opportunity  pass  without  improving  it.  A 
party  of  three  Americans  have  been  boarding  here  six  weeks, 
and  they  told  us  this  morning  that  we  really  had  seen  more 
of  London  than  they  had. 

In  sight  of  our  door  is  a  stand  for  carriages.  I  think  the 
carriage  arrangements  here  are  much  better  than  in  Paris. 
There  we  often  had  to  walk  some  distance  before  we  could 
find  a  carriage,  but  when  we  did  come  to  a  stand,  we  found 
vehicles  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  and  in  any  quantities. 
Here  there  are  a  few  carriages  at  a  time ;  they  are  in  almost 
every  street,  standing  along  in  a  line  in  the  middle  of  the 
street.  You  have  only  to  look  toward  a  carriage  driver, 
and  instantly  his  fore  finger  is  raised  ;  if  you  want  him, 
you  raise  yours  in  return,  and  immediately  he  is  by  your 
side.  I  like  when  I  go  by  a  line  of  carriages,  just  to  glance 
a  them,  to  see  how  quickly  the  fingers  are  raised. 


LETTERS.  3J9 

The  British  Museum  is  a  very  large  building,  nay,  I  may 
say  buildings.  Some  parts  are  quite  new,  indeed  not  yet  fin- 
ished, so  that  all  the  articles  are  not  arranged  for  visitors 
to  see  them.  The  collection  is  very  extensive  and  remark- 
bly  fine,  and  for  a  wonder  in  London,  the  admission  is  free 
and  no  attendant  is  allowed  to  take  a  fee  from  a  visitor. 
On  the  staircase  are  several  stuffed  animals,  a  giraffe,  a 
musk  ox,  a  white  bear,  a  seal,  a  rhinoceros,  and  some  others. 
In  the  first  room  are  curiosities  from  the  South  Sea  Islands, 
and  from  British  North  America,  fishing  utensils,  jackets 
made  of  the  intestines  of  the  whale,  musical  instruments, 
mostly  of  reeds,  warlike  implements,  clubs,  cloth  made  of 
the  bark  of  the  paper  mulberry,  Esquimaux  dresses,  idols  of 
various  forms,  ornaments,  &c.  Then  comes  the  museum 
of  natural  history,  and  here  is  every  kind  of  animal  ever 
known  to  exist.  I  cannot,  of  course,  enumerate  them. 
Besides  the  larger  animals,  there  are  every  species  of  mon- 
keys, bats,  rats,  mice,  squirrels,  rabbits,  all  sorts  of  insects 
preserved  in  spirits,  fish,  and  birds  of  every  kind.  And  not 
the  least  interesting  were  the  fossil  remains  of  animals,  larger 
than  any  in  the  known  world,  by  the  side  of  which  the  ele- 
phant is  but  a  baby,  animals,  too,  that  were  found  in  Eng- 
land, that  now  only  exist  in  the  hottest  climates.  Such  are 
some  of  the  changes  in  this  changing  world  of  ours. 

Then  there  was  a  beautiful  collection  of  shells  comprising 
every  kind,  from  the  common  clam  shell  to  the  rarest  and 
most  beautiful  ever  known,  and  a  grand  cabinet  of  minerals. 
One  room  was  filled  with  mummies  and  other  Egyptian  an- 
tiquities, but  we  did  not  stop  to  examine  them,  as  we  saw  so 
many  of  those  in  different  museums  on  the  continent. 

We  supposed  the  library  was  also  open  to  the  public,  but 
we  found  that  no  one  was  admitted  except  by  an  order  from 
one  of  the  trustees.  We  told  one  of  the  attendants  that  we 
were  strangers,  and  of  course  could  not  well  obtain  such  a 
ticket.  He  asked  if  we  were  foreigners,  (it  seems  he  did 
not  suspect  by  our  *'  poor  English  "  that  we  were  Ameri- 


820  LETTERS. 

cans.)  On  being  told  who  we  v/ere,  he  told  us  he  would 
show  us  the  room  called  the  king's  library.  It  is  a  large 
room,  three  hundred  feet  long,  and  contains  over  sixty 
thousand  volumes,  but  as  we  could  not  see  any  of  the  rare 
manuscripts  here  deposited,  we  did  not  care  to  stop  long. 

On  coming  out,  we  found  that  the  rain  had  ceased,  so  we 
thought  we  would  walk  to  Westminster  Abbey.  It  was  a 
long  distance  to  be  sure,  but  as  the  church  was  not  open 
till  three  o'clock,  we  should  have  gained  nothing  by  riding, 
so  looking  about  on  the  shops  and  houses,  and  reading  the 
signs,  we  walked  on,  sometimes  getting  a  little  out  ot  our 
way.  Then  we  unfolded  our  pocket  map,  found  out  the 
right  direction,  and  again  trudged  on.  At  last  came  up  a 
violent  shower,  and  we  were  obliged  to  take  a  carriage  for 
the  remainder  of  the  distance. 

What  a  noble  building  is  Westminster  Abbey !  Vastly 
superior  in  its  architecture  to  St.  Paul's,  and  then,  inde- 
pendent of  these  things,  it  is  full  of  so  many  monuments, 
and  appeals  to  our  feelings  by  so  many  touching  associa- 
tions, that  it  is  one  of  the  first  objects  in  London  a  stranger 
goes  to  see. 

It  is  built  in  the  purest  Gothic  style,  excepting  that  the  up- 
per part  of  the  front  towers  is  finished  with  Roman  ornaments, 
an  inconsistency  which  must  immediately  strike  every  behold- 
er. All  around  the  exterior  are  jutting  turrets  wrought  in  the 
finest  Gothic  style.  Leading  to  the  north  arm  of  the  cross, 
is  a  noble  portico.  In  short,  the  whole  exterior  is  magnifi- 
cent, and  is  finished  in  the  richest  manner.  And  the  inte- 
rior is  so  grand,  that  I  cannot  praise  it  too  highly.  The 
ceiling  is  vaulted,  and  is  supported  by  immense  pillars  of 
grey  marble.  Around  the  nave  runs  a  gallery  composed  of 
licrht  arches,  over  which  is  a  range  of  windows.  The  choir 
is  so  separated  from  the  nave,  as  greatly  to  impair  the  effect 
of  the  architecture,  making  the  church  look  much  shorter 
than  it  is.  At  the  entrance  to  the  choir  are  beautiful 
arches  of  open  stone  work,  over  which  is  the  organ,  which, 


LETTERS.  321 

of  course,  entirely  conceal  the  choir  from  view,  while  stand- 
ing in  the  nave. 

I  come  now  to  speak  of  the  monuments.  And  first  of  all 
let  us  stop  at  that  part  of  the  church  called  "  the  Poet's 
corner."  How  many  a  bard  has  been  cheered,  through 
scenes  of  poverty  and  self-denial,  by  the  hope  of  at  last 
being  laid  among  the  gifted  ones,  whose  ashes  here  repose, 
or  whose  names  are  here  inscribed.  The  first  monument  that 
attracted  my  attention  was  that  of  Milton.  It  is  surmounted 
by  a  bust  of  that  prince  of  epic  poets.  On  the  pedestal  is 
a  bas-relief  bust  of  Gray,  and  an  inscription  to  that  poet 
also.  I  designed  copying  the  inscriptions  on  all  these  mon- 
uments, (not  to  burden  you  with  them,  but  for  my  own  edi- 
fication,) but  we  were  not  allow^ed  to  stop  long  enough  in 
any  one  place  to  do  that.  Let  me  give  you  the  inscription 
on  Spenser's  monument.  "  Heare  lyes  (expecting  the 
second  comminge  of  our  Saviour  Christ  Jesvs,)  the  body  of 
Edmund  Spenser,  the  Prince  of  Poets  in  his  tyme,  whose 
Divine  Spirit  needs  noe  other  witnesse  than  the  works 
which  he  left  behinde.  He  was  borne  in  London  in  the 
yeare  1553,  and  died  in  the  yeare  1593."  Quite  near  this 
is  a  little  slab  surmounted  by  a  bust,  with  this  simple  in- 
scription, "  O  rare  Ben  Jonson." 

Within  a  neat  little  temple  of  white  marble,  is  a  bust, 
beneath  which  is  written,  "  J.  Dryden,  natus  1632;  mor- 
tuus  ]\lais  1,  1700."  In  another  part  of  the  "  corner  "  is  a 
monument  to  Shakspeare,  on  the  pedestal  of  which,  in  bas- 
relief,  are  the  heads  of  Henry  V.,  Richard  III.,  and  Eliza- 
beth. On  the  top  is  a  statue  of  the  dramatist,  holding  in 
his  hand  a  scroll.  Near  him  are  the  remains  of  Sheridan, 
and  monuments  to  Thomson,  Goldsmith,  Garrick,  Addison, 
Congreve,  and  Handel,  and  in  another  part  of  the  church, 
of  Drs.  Young  and  Watts.  Why  they  were  not  put  in  the 
"  corner,"  I  cannot  tell. 

Among  the  statesmen  of  Great  Britain,  Pitt  and  Fox, 
Grattan,  Canning,   and  Wilberforce  are  here  remembered. 


322  LETTERS. 

Wilberforce  is  represented  in  a  sitting  posture  ;  it  is  said  to 
be  a  striking  likeness.  It  is  excellently  well  done.  I  was 
particularly  struck  with  one  monument,  (I  can't  tell  whose 
it  was,)  on  which  was  a  figure  designed  to  signify  the  dis- 
tress of  the  widow  and  the  fatherless.  A  woman  holds  in 
her  arms  a  child ;  on  her  sharpened  features  poverty  is 
w'ritten,  and  in  her  piteous  expression,  want  and  care  and 
affliction  may  be  plainly  read.  By  her  side  lies  her  little 
bundle,  in  which  is  collected  her  all  of  this  world's  goods. 
But  the  best  part  is  the  robe  of  coarse  serge  thrown  around 
her.  This  is  so  admirably  done,  as  perfectly  to  imitate 
coarse  cloth,  and  I  actually  went  up  close  to  it  to  see  if 
it  were  not  "  bona  fide  "  cloth.  I  inquired  the  sculptor's 
name.  It  may  not  be  new  to  the  world ;  it  was  to  me 
(Westmacott),  but  known  or  unknown,  it  will  live  in  that 
w^ork. 

Another  monument  was  most  beautiful.  I  say  "  beauti- 
ful" because  so  expressive.  It  is  that  of  Lady  Nightingale. 
Death  is  represented  as  coming  out  of  the  tomb,  holding  in 
his  hand  a  dart,  which  he  is  aiming  at  the  "  lovely  lady." 
Her  husband  stands  with  his  arms  around  her,  endeavoring 
to  shield  her  from  the  unerring  aim.  Horror  and  anguish 
unutterable  are  expressed  on  his  face,  while  her's  is  that  of  a 
dying  woman,  ghastly,  yet  sweet. 

But  were  I  longer  to  dwell  on  these  monuments,  I  should 
have  to  sit  up  all  the  night  to  finish  this  letter,  so  I  will 
hasten  into  King  Henry  Vllth's  Chapel.  It  is  one  hundred 
and  fifteen  feet  long,  and  eighty  wide,  and  is  a  perfect  little 
church  in  itself,  having  a  nave  and  side  aisles.  It  is  ap- 
proached from  the  church  by  steps  of  black  marble  under 
a  stately  portico,  within  which  are  gates  of  brass,  curiously 
wrought.  The  ceiling  is  of  stone,  sculptured.  In  the  nave 
are  stalls  for  the  Knights  of  the  order  of  the  Bath,  which 
order  used  to  be  here  conferred.  Each  seat  has  a  brass 
plate,  inscribed  with  the  name  and  the  arms  of  its  owner, 
and  over  his  seat  is  his  banner.  Beneath  these  are  stools 
for  their  esquires, 


LETTERS.  323 

One  of  the  finest  tombs  in  this  chapel  is  that  of  Henry 
VII.  and  his  queen.  It  is  surrounded  by  a  screen  of  open 
iron  work.  In  one  of  the  aisles  of  the  chapel  are  tombs  of 
dueens  Elizabeth  and  Mary,  supported  by  ten  pillars  of 
black  marble,  the  body  of  Elizabeth  resting  on  a  bier  up- 
held by  four  lions,  of  the  murdered  princes,  of  Mary  the 
unfortunate  Queen  of  Scots,  and  of  many  others,  far  too 
numerous  for  me  to  mention  here.  I  cannot  refrain,  how- 
ever, from  copying  the  inscription  on  the  tomb  of  Margaret 
Douglas,  daughter  of  Margaret,  Queen  of  Scots.  "  She 
had  to  her  great-grandfather,  Edward  IV.,  to  her  grand- 
father, Henry  VII.,  to  her  uncle,  Henry  VIII.,  to  her  cousin- 
german,  Edward  VI.,  to  her  brother,  James  V.  of  Scotland, 
to  her  grandson,  James  VI.,  to  her  great  grandmother  and 
grandmother,  two  queens,  both  named  Elizabeth,  to  her 
mother  Margaret,  queen  of  Scots,  to  her  aunt,  Mary  the 
French  queen,  to  her  cousins-german  Mary  and  Elizabeth, 
queens  of  England,  to  her  niece  and  daughter-in-law,  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots."  Now  I  should  think  here  were  grand 
relations  enough  to  satisfy  even  the  cravings  of  an  English 
heart.     I  warrant  she  carried  her  head  high. 

In  one  of  the  chapels,  I  do  not  remember  which,  is  the 
monument  of  an  Earl  of  Exeter,  on  top  of  which  is  his 
recumbent  statue,  and  on  his  right  hand,  that  of  his  first 
wife.  A  vacant  space  is  on  his  lefi;,  reserved  for  his  second 
wife,  but  she  left  in  her  will  a  strict  injunction  not  to  have 
her  body  laid  there,  as  she  would  not  submit  to  be  on  the 
left  hand  I     Now  this   is  what  I   call  a  real  woman's  spirit. 

But  I  must  not  forget  Edward  the  Confessor's  chapel, 
which  is  near  the  choir,  and  contains  the  shrine  of  St.  Ed- 
ward, the  tomb  of  Editha  his  wife,  and  of  some  others. 
Here  too  are  the  sword  and  shield  of  Edward  I.,  and  two 
coronation  chairs,  the  most  ancient  of  which  was  brought 
with  the  regalia  from  Scotland  in  1297;  the  other  was 
made  for  the  consort  of  William  III.  They  are  of  oak,  a 
ittle  gilded,  but  not  much. 


324  LETTERS. 

Among  the  curious  inscriptions  let  me  copy  one  more, 
and  then  I  shall  have  done.  "  Here  lyes  the  loyall  Duke  of 
Newcastle  and  his  Dutchess,  his  second  wife,  by  whome  he 
had  noe  issue ;  her  name  was  Margaret  Lucas,  youngest 
sister  to  the  Lord  Lucas  of  Colchester,  a  noble  familie,  for 
all  the  brothers  were  valiant,  and  all  the  sisters  virtuous. 
The  Dutchess  was  a  wise,  wittie  and  learned  lady,  which  her 
many  bookes  do  well  testifie.  She  was  a  most  virtuous,  and 
a  loveing  and  carefull  wife,  and  was  with  her  lord  all  the 
time  of  his  banishment  and  miseries,  and  when  he  came 
home,  never  parted  from  him  in  his  solitary  confinement." 
Truly  such  a  woman,  so  literary  and  yet  so  domestic, 
deserves  a  monument. 

One  of  the  sextons  of  the  church  ''  did  the  honors  of  the 
place,"  and  wry  were  the  glances  he  cast  at  me,  when  he 
saw  me  stop  to  copy  any  thing,  and  sundry  were  the  hints 
he  gave  about  not  taking  up  too  much  time,  all  of  which 
made  no  impression  upon  me.  We  did  not  leave  till  the 
lengthened  shadows  warned  us  to  depart. 

You  may  well  suppose  that  when  we  met  our  fellow- 
boarders  at  the  dinner  table,  they  congratulated  us  on  the 
good  use  we  had  made  of  the  day.  They  all  complain, 
because  we  do  not  go  to  the  drawing-room  after  dinner  and 
spend  the  evening  there ;  but  what  would  become  of  my 
letters  and  my  journal  if  I  did  1 

Such  a  long  epistle  as  this  surely  needs  nothing  at  the 
end ;  so  I  stop  abruptly,  without  as  much  as  adding  "  love 
to  all  inquiring  friends." 


London,  Friday. 
My  dear  F  :. 

I  suppose  you  wonder  that  I  have  been  so  long  in  England 
without  saying  any  thing  of  "  our  gracious  lady,  her  Majesty 
Queen  Victoria,"  but  the  fact  is  I  have  had  nothing  to  say 
about  her,  for  she  is  at  present  at  Windsor.     She  is  expected 


LETTERS.  325 

however  to  open  Parliament  on  Tuesday  week,  so  we  shall 
wait  to  see  the  show.  By  the  way,  she  is  never  here  spoken 
of  as  "  the  Queen,"  but  always  "  her  Majesty." 

Yesterday  morning  we  devoted  to  the  Tower.  We  rode 
in  an  omnibus  as  far  as  the  Bank.  (Will  you  allow  m^  to 
say  here  in  a  parenthesis,  that  this  vehicle  is  never  called  by 
its  proper  name  here,  that  being  quite  too  long,  it  is  always 
spoken  of  as  a  "bus.")  The  Bank  of  England  is  an  im- 
mense building,  though  rather  low,  being  but  a  story  and  a 
half  high.  The  principal  entrance  is  adorned  with  pillars. 
Next  to  it  is  the  new  Royal  Exchange.  It  is  but  just 
begvn,  and  is  to  be  an  enormous  edifice,  at  least  one  third 
larger  than  the  one  destroyed  by  fire  in  1838. 

We  walked  through  two  or  three  narrow,  dirty  streets, 
with  low,  ill-looking  houses.  The  principal  thing  for  sale, 
or  "on  sale,"  as  they  say  here,  was  fish.  At  length  we 
reached  the  Tower.  This  I  always  thought  was  one  large 
building,  but  it  is  rather  a  village  than  a  single  house.  The 
whole  is  enclosed  by  a  high  wall,  having  a  wide  ditch  run- 
ning around  on  the  outside.  We  stopped  at  the  gate  and 
bought  tickets  for  the  armory  and  jewel  room,  and  then  we 
were  shown  into  a  little  room,  where  our  tickets  were 
demanded,  and  we  were  ranged  along  in  due  order  on 
benches,  in  parties  of  twelve,  no  more  being  allowed  to  go 
at  once,  I  suppose  because  that  is  quite  as  many  as  one  man 
can  attend  to.  We  waited  there  awhile,  till  two  other 
parties  had  had  time  to  get  a  little  ahead,  and  then  our  turn 
came.  We  were  marshaled  by  a  warder  who  wore  a  scarlet 
cloth  coat,  with  large  hanging  sleeves.  It  was  faced  with 
narrow  blue-black  velvet,  within  lines  of  gilt  thread.  On 
the  back  and  front  were  wrought,  the  "  rose,  the  shamrock, 
and  the  thistle,"  (flowers  emblematical  of  England,  Ireland, 
and  Scotland,)  and  the  letters  "  V.  R."  He  wore  a  low 
hat  of  blue-black  velvet,  around  the  band  of  which  were 
little  bows  of  blue,  red  and  white  ribbon.  Was'nt  it  a 
queer  costume  for  an  "  Englisher  ?  " 
28 


LETTERS. 

He  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  subject,  and  he 
took  it  for  granted  that  we  knew  as  much  as  he  did,  for  he 
rattled  off  the  names,  and  hurried  us  about  so,  that  I  could 
hardly  tell  what  was  what.  I  succeeded  in  noting  down  a 
fewT  things.  In  fact,  we  were  always  behind  the  others,  to 
the  apparent  vexation  of  the  warder,  for  he  cast  many  angry 
looks  towards  us. 

In  the  armory  we  saw  suits  of  armor  once  belonging  to 
many  of  England's  kings  and  nobles.  How  easily  these 
were  worn,  you  may  judge  from  the  fact,  that  one  suit 
belonging  to  Henry  VIII.,  including  the  armor  for  his  horse, 
weighs  one  hundred  and  forty-two  pounds.  We  saw  the 
armor  of  a  pikeman,  who  was  seven  feet  two  inches  high, 
and  ten  small  cannon  presented  to  Charles  I.  when  a  child, 
to  teach  him  the  use  of  artillery. 

We  were  then  hurried  to  the  "  White  Tower,"  and  went 
into  the  room  where  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  confined,  and 
where  he  wrote  his  "  History  of  the  World."  Adjoining 
this  is  a  small,  dark  room,  which  was  his  bed-room.  The 
walls  of  this  room  have  been  newly  covered,  but  in  one 
place  the  old  wall  is  seen,  on  which  was  written  by  some  of 
the  prisoners  once  confined  here,  "  Be  thou  faithful  unto 
death,  and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life  ;  "  and,  "  He  that 
endureth  to  the  end  shall  be  saved." 

In  this  room  is  the  axe  with  which  the  heads  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  Jane  Grey,  and  the  Earl  of  Essex  were  cut  off,  and 
also  the  block  on  which  some  noblemen,  whose  names  were 
not  familiar  to  me,  were  beheaded.  We  saw  some  instru- 
ments of  torture,  fit  furniture  for  such  a  room,  among  which 
was  one  called  "  the  Spanish  Caraval,"  or  "  Scavenger's 
Daughter."  It  had  an  opening  for  the  neck,  another  for  the 
arms,  and  still  another  for  the  legs,  thus  drawing  the  body 
into  a  very  small  compass.  Another  was  called  "  the  Span- 
ish Collar  ;  "  it  fastened  around  the  neck,  and  was  furnished 
with  sharp  points  to  pierce  the  flesh.  It  weighs  fifteen 
pounds.     Then  there  was  a  roller  of  iron,  having  a  ring  at 


LETTERS.  327 

each  end,  in  which  the  feet  were  fastened,  thus  not  only 
confining  them  together,  but  making  the  individual  drag  this 
heavy  weight  with  him  wherever  he  went. 

The  walls  of  *'  the  White  Tower "  are  seventeen  feet 
thick,  and  its  foundations  twenty-eight  deep.  In  one  room 
is  a  representation  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  as  she  went  on 
horseback  to  St.  Paul's,  to  return  thanks  after  the  defeat  of 
the  Spanish  Armada.  It  is  really  curious.  Her  dress  is 
covered  with  spangles  of  silver,  and  something  which  looked 
like  wax  beads,  meant,  I  suppose,  for  pearls.  The  bodice 
was  long  and  tight,  the  sleeves  large,  and  round  her  neck 
she  wore  an  immense  ruff,  and  a  half  dozen  rich  chains. 
Over  her  dress  was  a  mantle  of  green  velvet.  The  housings 
of  the  horse  were  of  crimson  velvet.  It  was  led  by  a  small 
page.     The  whole  was  an  interesting  relic  of  the  past. 

In  other  rooms  in  the  tower  we  saw  cannon,  on  which 
were  the  imperial  crown,  and  the  letter  N.,  which  were  taken 
at  the  battle  of  Waterloo ;  two  cannon  taken  from  the  ship 
Royal  George,  sunk  many  years  ago,  (these  had  been  in  the 
water  more  than  fifty  years,)  a  belt  and  a  shield  once  be- 
longing to  Tippoo  Saib,  a  scythe  fixed  upon  wheels,  used  to 
send  in  among  cavalry  to  break  their  ranks,  some  bayonets 
taken  in  the  battle  of  Bayonne,  from  which,  by  the  way, 
the  name  is  derived,  and  balls  and  grape-shot,  and  weapons 
of  warfare  innumerable. 

When  the  warder  told  the  names  of  the  cannon  taken  as 
trophies  of  war,  he  seemed  to  feel  a  pride  in  thus  relating 
deeds  of  valor  performed  by  his  countrymen,  I  was  on  the 
point  of  asking  him  if  he  could  show  some  taken  from  the 
Americans  in  contest  with  them,  but  then  I  should  have 
betrayed  my  nation,  which  for  certain  reasons  I  wished 
concealed.  These  warders  are  what  we  call  "  cute,"  and 
they  rather  pride  themselves  on  their  powers  of  discernment, 
and  have  often  been  heard  to  boast  that  they  could  tell  an 
American  just  as  soon  as  they  saw  one.  An  English  gentle- 
man, speaking  of  this  fact  at  the  breakfast  table  yesterday 


328  LETTERS. 

morning,  defied  us  to  go  to  the  Tower  and  act  ourselves, 
without  the  warder  discovering  who  we  were.  I  maintained 
that  we  could.  We  therefore  asked  as  many  questions  as 
we  chose  about  the  objects  that  claimed  our  attention, 
without  apparently  exciting  his  suspicions,  but  if  I,  in  my 
national  pride,  had  referred  to  the  contest  with  America,  I 
should,  in  common  parlance,  "  have  let  the  cat  out  of  the 
bag,''  for  no  Englishman  would  voluntarily  speak  on  so  sore 
a  subject. 

There  is  one  room  three  hundred  and  forty-five  feet  long 
and  sixty  wide,  filled  with  guns  and  muskets  kept  in  the 
nicest  order.  When  the  racks  are  all  filled,  they  number 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand ;  at  present  there  are  one 
hundred  thousand,  many  having  been  lately  sent  to  the 
troops  in  foreign  lands.  No  wonder  there  are  "  Gun- 
makers  to  her  Majesty."  Many  of  these  guns  and  muskets 
were  arranged  in  various  forms  around  the  walls  of  the 
room,  representing  the  sun,  the  royal  arms,  hydra-headed 
monsters,  the  front  of  an  organ,  and  several  other  things. 

We  then  visited  the  Jewel  room,  a  little  dungeon,  in 
which  several  bishops  were  at  one  time  confined.  Here  we 
sat  on  two  seats  before  the  royal  gems,  separated  from  them, 
however,  by  an  iron  grate,  through  which  we  were  gracious- 
ly allowed  to  peep.  Our  warder  left  us  here  to  the  care  of  a 
woman,  but  not  before  touching  his  hat,  and  softly  saying, 
"  remember  the  warder,  if  you  please." 

With  a  little  wand  in  her  hand,  and  in  the  choicest 
phrases,  and  the  softest  tones,  our  lady  of  the  jewels  called 
off  their  names.  The  first  thing,  of  course,  in  beauty  and 
splendor,  is  Victoria's  crown.  It  is  set  with  the  richest 
gems,  one  of  which  is  a  sapphire,  the  largest  in  the  known 
world,  presented  by  some  great  king,  I  declare  I  have  for- 
gotten whom.  The  crown  cost  one  million  pounds  sterling. 
It  is  only  taken  from  this  place  on  great  state  occasions. 
When  she  opens  or  prorogues  Parliament,  it  is  borne  before 
her  till  she  reads  her  speech.     It  is  then  put  on  her  head, 


LETTERS.  329 

and  worn  until  she  gets  through,  when  it  is  once  more  con- 
signed to  its  velvet  cushion,  and  brought  here  with  great 
pomp  and  parade. 

The  other  jewels  are  valued  at  about  one  million  pounds. 
Amongst  these  there  is  a  large  basin  of  gold  used  at  the 
christening .  of  the  royal  babies,  the  sword  of  mercy,  the 
two  swords  of  justice,  the  one  temporal,  the  other  spiritual, 
a  large  golden  chalice,  used  at  the  coronation  banquets,  a 
plate  and  chalice  for  the  communion,  the  golden  eagle,  and 
the  spoon  in  which  is  placed  the  consecrating  oil,  five  or  six 
splendid  saltcellars  of  gold,  the  spurs  worn  at  the  consecra- 
tion, if  a  king,  and  the  bracelets,  if  a  queen,  the  golden  orb, 
used  for  what  purpose  I  know  not,  some  foolery  or  other, 
two  or  three  swords  belonging  to  some  of  the  former  kings, 
the  crown  made  for  Anne  Boleyn,  and  I  have  forgotten 
what  else,  except  the  model  in  gold  of  *'  the  white  tower," 
which  cost  eight  thousand  pounds. 

As  we  left  the  Jewel  room,  our  lady  conductor  kindly 
pointed  out  the  part  of  the  tower  in  which  Mary  confined 
her  sister  Elizabeth,  also  where  Anne  Boleyn  and  Jane 
Grey  were  imprisoned,  and  the  place  in  the  court  where 
they  were  beheaded.* 

Where  next  do  you  think  we  directed  our  steps  ?  To  the 
greatest  of  all  curiosities,  made  not  by  the  hand  of  nature 
but  of  man,  the  Tunnel.  We  passed  by  the  Custom-house, 
an  immense  building  of  dark  colored  stone.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  busy  scene  going  on  around  the  premises,  for  in  the 
few  minutes  we  stopped  to  observe  the  building,  more  than 
one  hundred  persons  passed  in  and  out.     Indeed  I  was  told 


*  I  have  dwelt  with  melancholy  pleasure  on  this  our  visit  to  the  Tower, 
as  the  first  news  we  heard  after  leaving  England,  was,  that  almost  all  these 
things  which  I  have  mentioned,  except  the  jewels,  had  been  destroyed  by 
fire.  Such  an  event  is  not  only  a  loss  to  England,  but  to  the  whole  world, 
for  it  was  a  grand  place  that  Tower,  to  acquire  important  historical  infor- 
mation. 

28* 


330  LETTERS. 

that  nearly  two  thousand  persons  are  kept  there  in  constant 
employ. 

We  went  along  by  St.  Catherine's  dock  and  the  London 
dock,  which  are  surrounded  by  large  warehouses,  till  we 
came  to  the  part  of  the  river  opposite  the  entrance  to  the 
Tunnel.  We  crossed  the  river  in  a  little  boat,  and  after 
paying  two  shillings  at  the  tunnel  office,  were  soon  down  in 
the  bowels  of  the  earth.  We  descended,  I  should  think, 
more  than  a  hun  dred  stairs,  no  carriage  road  being  yet 
made.  We  traversed  the  whole  length  of  the  tunnel,  at 
least  as  far  as  it  has  been  finished,  which  is  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river.  It  is  at  present 
eleven  hundred  and  forty  feet  long,  thirty-eight  wide,  and 
twenty-two  feet  and  a  half  high.  It  is  lined  with  stone,  and 
the  whole  is  finished  off  in  the  most  solid  manner.  There  are 
two  passages,  separated  from  each  other  by  an  archway, 
and  in  each  arch  there  is  a  gas  light.  The  passages  are 
macadamized,  and  a  little  raised  walk  is  paved  for  foot- 
passengers. 

I  do  not  think  I  ever  experienced  sensations  so  nearly 
approaching  the  awful,  as  I  did  in  that  terrific  passage. 
Climbing  up  mountains,  groping  in  dark  caves,  wandering 
through  grottoes  lit  only  by  the  glimmering  torch,  the  feel- 
ings excited  by  these  dwindled  to  nothing,  compared  with 
the  effect  produced  on  my  mind  by  the  Thames  tunnel.  To 
know  that  that  river  was  rolling  over  our  heads,  and  that 
its  surface  was  covered  by  ships  and  steamers  and  boats 
without  number,  and  that  if  the  slightest  accident  happened, 
there  was  no  escape  for  us ;  it  was  terrible,  and  1  doubt 
much  if  I  could  find  courage  to  go  there  again.  To  add  to 
the  gloom,  the  gas  pipes  had  been  broken,  and  the  arches 
were  but  dimly  lighted  with  little  tallow  candles,  which 
threw  their  flickering  beams  with  so  much  indistinctness,  as 
to  render  every  thing  still  more  shadowy  and  superhuman. 
And  then,  too,  to  see  the  dusky  forms  gliding  about,  and  to 
hear  the  cries  of  the  workmen,  as  they  called  out  to  each 


LETTERS.  331 

Other,  made  the  whole  scene  seem  more  like  a  fearful  pic- 
ture of  the  imagination,  than  a  dread  reality.  This  tunnel, 
dreadful  as  it  is,  is  nevertheless  a  stupendous  piece  of  work- 
manship, and  merits  all  praise  for  the  perseverance  with 
which  it  has  been  carried  on  against  all  obstacles,  which 
have  been  by  no  means  few  or  far  between.  The  work  is 
done  slowly ;  a  large  machine  is  used,  called  "  a  shield," 
within  which  are  the  workmen.  They  bore  out  a  small 
portion  of  earth,  screw  in  a  clamp  to  keep  it  from  caving  in, 
then  dig  out  a  little  piece  more,  and  so  on,  till  the  whole  is 
excavated.  Thus  it  progresses  by  inches,  and  although  it 
now  seems  so  near  being  finished,  it  will  probably  be  several 
years  before  carriages  can  pass,  as  a  road  to  the  tunnel  has 
yet  to  be  made,  which  will  be  no  small  labor,  seeing 
that  the  descent  is  now  almost  perpendicular. 

J.  and  several  gentlemen,  who  were  down  at  the  same 
time  with  us,  enveloped  themselves  in  water-proof  coats  and 
hats,  and  went  forward  where  they  could  see  the  men  at 
work,  but  I  felt  satisfied  with  standing  where  I  was,  which 
was  at  the  very  end  of  the  passage.  I  could  hear  the  water 
dripping  where  the  work  was  not  completed,  and  I  did  not 
care  to  venture  farther  in  such  unknown  regions.  It  was 
not  very  pleasant  to  be  sure  to  be  left  there  alone ;  but  I 
walked  back  and  forth,  occupying  myself  with  my  own 
thoughts,  not  just  then  of  the  most  cheerful  nature.  In  addi- 
tion to  all  other  inconveniences,  the  air  was  so  noxious,  I 
could  not  breathe  with  ease,  and  it  was  so  damp  and  cold, 
that  I  shivered  all  the  while  I  was  there,  so  that  I  was  glad 
once  more  to  behold  the  light  of  day. 

We  started  on  our  homeward  way,  but  instead  of  turning 
toward  the  city,  we  took  the  opposite  direction,  and  had 
walked  quite  a  mile  before  we  perceived  our  mistake.  We 
then  were  obliged  to  retrace  our  steps  to  the  Tunnel, 
where  we  got  into  a  *'  bus,"  and  rode  as  far  as  St.  Paul's. 

We  have  been  amused  in  our  different  walks,  to  see 
the  novel   method  of  advertising  practised   here.     Men  go 


332  LETTERS. 

around  with  large  frames  on  their  shoulders,  and  sometimes 
on  their  head ;  on  these  are  posted  playbills,  notices  of 
places  of  amusement,  and  exhortations  to  buy  your  goods  at 
the  cheapest  shops.  We  have  several  times  seen  a  large 
wagon  going  about  the  streets,  having  on  it,  "  reform  your 
tailor's  bill,"  and  giving  the  address  of  the  establishment 
where  this  good  work  might  be  perfected. 

This  morning  we  went  to  Greenwich,  about  five  miles 
from  here,  though  for  my  part  I  could  not  tell  where  London 
ended  and  Greenwich  began,  for  it  seemed  to  me  all  the 
time  as  if  we  were  in  the  dense  part  of  the  city.  We  were 
told  that  a  coach  for  Greenwich  started  from  "  Charing 
Cross,"  so  taking  our  little  map  as  a  guide,  we  set  out.  We 
passed  through  Regent  street,  a  fine  wide  street,  adorned 
with  stately  buildings,  the  lower  stories  of  which  are  mostly 
fitted  up  for  shops.  Here  you  will  see  the  richest  goods 
displayed.  Laces,  embroideries,  and  silk,  are  sold  about  as 
cheap  here  as  in  Paris,  gloves  are  higher.  Articles  manu- 
factured within  the  kingdon  are  quite  cheap,  but  on  those 
imported,  the  duties  are  so  high,  that  a  correspondingly  high 
price  is  demanded  for  them.  Thus  I  often  see  in  the  shop 
windows  coffee  marked  two  shillings  and  two  shillings  six- 
pence a  pound  (this  currency).  Books  are  exceedingly  high, 
the  same  books  which  at  home  we  might  buy  for  a  half  dol- 
lar, here  bring  seven  shillings.  We  saw  a  flaming  adver- 
tisement in  the  windows  of  a  bookseller,  that  an  edition  of 
Scott's  novels  was  there  sold  very  cheap.  We  inquired 
the  price.  Very  cheap  it  was  to  be  sure,  at  four  shillings 
a  volume,  each  separate  work  comprising  at  least  two 
volumes ! 

But  as  usual  with  me,  I  have  wandered  far  from  my  sub- 
ject. At  the  lower  end  of  Regent  street,  there  is  a  noble 
semicircular  range  of  houses ;  this  is  called  "  The  Quad- 
rant." In  front  is  a  colonnade,  supported  by  handsome 
pillars,  and  lighted  by  windows  in  the  roof.  All  the  houses 
in  this  vicinity  are  good  specimens  of  architecture. 


LETTERS.  333 

Charing  Cross  derives  its  name,  some  say,  from  a  cross 
erected  on  this  spot  (then  the  village  of  Charing)  by  Ed- 
ward I.,  to  the  memory  of  Q,ueen  Eleanor.  Others  deny 
the  existence  of  such  a  village,  and  affirm,  that  the  cross 
was  so  named  from  its  being  erected  on  this  spot,  so  fre- 
quently the  restijig  place  of  the  "  chere  Regne,"  (dear 
Q,ueen,)  in  her  numerous  "progresses"  about  the  metropo- 
lis. Be  that  as  it  may,  the  cross  remained  till  the  civil  wars 
in  the  time  of  Charles  I.,  when  it  was  torn  down,  because 
considered  a  remnant  of  papal  superstition.  An  equestrian 
statue  in  bronze  of  Charles  I.,  then  took  its  place,  which 
by  the  way  was  the  first  equestrian  statue  ever  seen  in 
Great  Britain.  Not  long  did  it  remain  there,  for  soon  after 
the  dethronement  and  execution  of  that  unhappy  monarch, 
it  was  sold  by  Parliament  to  a  brazier,  with  orders  to  break 
it  in  nlpp.p«  b"*  hs  c^nCiilcd  it  under  cr^uid  tiM  *hs  ^f"*!^*^- 
ration,  when  it  was  brought  back  to  its  original  resting  place. 

Near  Charing  Cross  is  an  open  place  of  triangular  form, 
adorned  with  an  equestrian  statue  of  George  III. 

The  chief  object  of  interest  in  Greenwich,  at  least  to  us, 
is  the  "  Hospital  for  Seamen."  There  are  four  large  build- 
ings called  King  Charles's,  Queen  Anne's,  King  William's, 
and  Q,ueen  Mary's,  the  first  two  being  on  the  Thames,  and 
having  between  them  a  large  square,  ornamented  with  a 
statue  of  George  II.  King  William's  and  Q,ueen  Mary's 
buildings  stand  back  of  this  square ;  they  have  each  a  fine 
dome  and  a  portico. 

Connected  with  the  hospital  is  a  beautiful  chapel.  It  is 
one  hundred  and  eleven  feet  long,  and  fifty-two  wide.  The 
side  galleries  are  for  the  officers,  the  governor's  seat  being 
in  the  centre.  These  galleries  are  not  supported  by  pillars, 
but  by  large  beams  of  oak,  finely  carved.  The  organ  gal- 
lery is  supported  by  six  fluted  columns  of  beautiful  white 
marble,  the  capitals  being  exquisitely  sculptured.  The 
door-way  is  also  of  white  marble,  richly  carved.  The 
door  is  of  mahogany,   and  has  stood  fifty-two  years  without 


334  LETTERS. 

hinge  or  nail,  turning  on  its  own  pivot.  It  cost  five  hun- 
dred pounds.  The  organ  has  seventeen  hundred  and  twenty 
pipes,  and  is  considered  one  of  the  best  in  the  kingdom. 
The  communion  table  is  of  white  marble ;  it  rests  on  six 
cherubs.  Over  this  table  is  West's  great  picture  of  the 
preservation  of  St.  Paul  from  shipwreck.  It  is  twenty-five 
feet  high,  and  fourteen  wide,  and  is  on  one  piece  of  canvass, 
manufactured  purposely  for  the  painting.  The  pulpit  and 
the  desk  are  of  satin  wood.  The  floor  is  of  black  and  white 
marble,  paved  in  the  aisles  to  represent  the  cables  of  a 
ship.  The  whole  cost  of  the  chapel  was  ninety-six  thousand 
pounds.  It  really  is  a  fine  building,  and  every  thing  is  as 
nice  and  neat  as  possible.  A  middle-aged  seaman  was  our 
cicerone  there,  and  he  described  every  thing  in  very  good 
language.  I  really  enjoyed  hearing  hira  talk.  We  went 
into  one  of  the  dining  hails,  where  tables  were  set  fur  seven 
hundred  men.  In  each  plate  were  three  or  four  potatoes 
and  some  salt.  Three  quarters  of  a  pound  of  meat  and  a 
bowl  of  soup  are  allowed  each  man.  One  day  they  have 
beef,  and  the  next  mutton.  Every  morning  a  pint  of  cho- 
colate and  a  half  pound  of  bread  are  given  to  each  one,  and 
at  night  a  pint  of  tea,  a  half  pound  of  bread,  and  two 
ounces  of  butter.  In  addition  to  all  this  good  cheer,  each 
man  has  daily  three  pints  of  ale,  made  at  the  hospital. 

Those  who  are  married  are  served  first,  that  they  may 
take  it  to  their  families,  who  are  not  allowed  to  be  with 
them  in  the  hospital.  At  present  there  are  twenty-seven 
hundred  men  in  this  establishment.  They  wear  a  blue 
uniform,  and  besides  this,  are  allowed  their  shoes,  stock- 
ings, linen,  and  a  shilling  a  week  for  pocket  money.  Those 
that  we  saw  looked  cheerful  and  clean.  Many  were  maimed, 
some  were  blind,  and  almost  all  showed  marks  of  hard 
service. 

In  King  Charles'  building  are  the  libraries,  one  for  the 
oflficers,  and  the  other  for  the  seamen.  None  but  pension- 
ers are  permitted  to  go  in.     So  we  peeped  through  one  of 


LETTERS.  335 

the  windows  and  saw  that  the  books  were  neatly  arranged, 
and  that  around  a  large  table  in  the  centre  were  settees, 
the  tops  of  which  were  carved  to  imitate  a  rope.  One  of  the 
seamen  told  us  that  those  were  presented  by  William  IV., 
and  that  they  are  said  to  be  among  the  finest  specimens  of 
carving  in  wood  in  the  kingdom. 

In  the  upper  stories  of  this  building  are  the  sleeping 
apartments.  In  one  ward  each  man  is  permitted  to  furnish 
his  own  bed-room,  or  cabin,  as  he  cells  it.  These  rooms 
are  small,  but  exceedingly  nbo  rnd  neat.  Each  seems  to 
vie  with  the  other  in  striving  after  cleanliness  and  tidiness. 
Many  of  these  cabins  were  plentifully  decorated  with  little 
pictures,  shells,  stuffed  birds,  cups,  and  glasses,  brought 
from  foreign  countries,  all  having  connected  with  them 
associations  more  or  less  interesting.  In  one  room  we  saw 
a  carving  in  wood,  representing  the  victory  of  the  Mary 
Ross.  It  was  done  with  a  common  jack-knife  by  a  sailor 
who  had  but  one  arm.  He  was  seven  years  employed  upon 
it,  and  it  is  really  a  fine  piece  of  workmanship,  though  not  by 
a  renowned  artist.  Underneath  this  in  a  glass  case,  are  the 
hat  Nelson  wore  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  and  a  pair  of 
silk  stockings  once  belonging  to  him.  What  pride  and  en- 
thusiam  all  these  seamen  manifested  in  speaking  of  Nelson  ! 
It  seemed  as  though  they  reverenced  him  as  something  more 
than  human. 

King  Charles'  building  was  formerly  a  royal  palace,  and 
the  window  was  pointed  out  to  us,  though  which,  report 
says,  that  ill-fated  king  made  his  escape,  when  pursued  by 
his  enemies.  In  this  building  the  doors  are  of  iron,  so  if  a 
fire  breaks  out  in  one  room,  by  shutting  the  doors,  its  spread 
is  somewhat  prevented. 

We  enjoyed  this  visit  to  Greenwich  much.  It  was  inter- 
esting to  us  to  meet  so  many  of  the  old  English  tars,  who 
have  undergone  so  much  in  their  country's  service. 

On  our  return  we  found  a  note  from  Mr.  P.,  an  American 
gentleman  now  residing  in  London,  enclosing  two  tickets 


336  LETTERS. 

for  Vauxhall  gardens  for  this  evening,  at  which  time  there 
was  to  be  an  unusual  variety  in  the  entertainments,  in 
honor  of  the  birthday  of  Adelaide  the  Queen  Dowager. 
We  are  at  least  three  miles  from  Vauxhall,  so  we  went  in 
an  omnibus.  When  we  arrived  there  the  doors  were  not 
opened.  A  crowd  of  people  was  waiting  around,  but  all 
were  quiet  and  orderly,  for  there  were  several  police  men, 
who  were  ready  to  put  down  the  least  disturbance,  the  mo- 
ment it  should  arise.  There  is  no  feature  of  London  that 
strikes  a  stranger  more  agreeably  than  the  admirable  police 
arrangements.  In  almost  every  street  during  the  day,  and 
in  quite  every  one  in  the  evening,  you  meet  these  men,  ever 
ready  for  the  prompt  performance  of  their  duty.  They 
wear  an  uniform  of  dark  blue,  always  look  neat  and  clean, 
and  are  uniformly  civil  and  obliging.  Whenever  we  have 
inquiries  to  make  in  relation  to  any  thing  that  particularly 
strikes  our  attention,  we  address  our  remarks  to  a  police- 
man, and  we  have  invariably  received  from  them  civil  and 
gentlemanly  attention,  without  any  officiousness,  any  extra 
words,  but  what  they  say  is  right  to  the  point,  though  al- 
ways uttered  in  the  most  respectful  manner.  We  often  see 
them  settling  difficulties  in  the  streets,  and  leading  away 
men  and  women ;  for  with  shame  to  my  sex,  be  it  said, 
a  drunken,  brawling  woman  is  no  rare  sight  in  London. 

But  to  Vauxhall.  After  waiting  ten  or  fifteen  minutes, 
the  doors  were  opened,  and  we  were  ushered  into  the  gar- 
den, where  a  blaze  of  light  and  splendor  caused  us  to  stop 
and  gaze  around.  This  garden  is  extensive,  and  is  adorned 
with  delightful  trees  and  walks,  which  were  illuminated  by 
hundreds  of  small  lights  of  various  colors.  Almost  the  first 
thing  that  we  noticed  was  a  small  temple  in  which  the  mu- 
sicians were  stationed.  Back  of  this  was  the  word  **  Ade- 
laide," composed  of  small  lights,  and  all  around  were  emblems 
of  royalty,  such  as  crowns  and  sceptres,  each  bearing  the 
initials  "  A.  R." 

We  sauntered  about   for  more  than  an  hour,  listening  to 


LETTERS.  337 

the  music,  and  admiring  the  beautiful  scenes  around  us,  now- 
walking  beneath  lofty  trees,  then  beside  a  murmuring  water- 
fall, now  amid  the  beauties  of  Swiss  scenery,  and  then  again 
through  wild  scenes  of  uncultivated  nature.  In  the  mean 
time  a  man  was  constantly  going  around  the  garden,  imi- 
tating different  birds  and  animals,  so  that  at  times  it  almost 
seemed  that  we  must  be  listening  to  the  songs  of  birds,  the 
quacking  of  ducks,  the  cackling  of  hens  and  chickens,  and 
the  noise  of  peacocks,  owls,  calves  and  sheep. 

After  a  while  the  band  played  "  The  taking  of  Jean 
d'Acre."  It  was  a  splendid  performance,  and  the  effect  was 
heightened  by  the  explosion  of  powder  in  imitation  of  can- 
non. When  this  was  finished,  a  little  bell  was  rung,  and  we 
saw  the  crowd  rushing  toward  a  little  pavilion,  so  we  ran  too, 
and  soon  found  ourselves  in  the  pit  of  a  small  theatre.  Here 
we  were  obliged  to  stand  up  all  the  time,  and  thus  we  could 
see  all  that  was  going  on.  Mr.  Catlin  exhibited  his  Indian 
scenes,  among  which  were  a  council,  a  war-dance,  a  feast,  a 
wedding,  and  a  scalping,  in  which  he  and  others,  painted 
and  dressed  like  Indians,  performed  their  parts  very  well, 
and,  as  it  seemed  to  us,  in  accordance  with  the  customs  of 
the  aborigines  of  our  country,  but  they  were  not  well  re- 
ceived at  all,  many  of  the  different  scenes  being  hissed.  In 
fact,  the  noise  and  bustle,  from  the  time  we  entered  the 
garden,  seemed  insupportable,  after  the  quietness  and  order 
with  which  such  things  are  conducted  in  France.  However, 
John  Bull  is  rather  a  boisterous  fellow,  and  he  will  make  a 
bluster  whenever  he  can. 

We  again  sauntered  around  the  garden,  till  the  fireworks 
began  ;  these  were  very  brilliant  and  beautiful,  and  lasted 
some  time.  In  the  meantime,  a  Signora  something,  walked 
along  a  tight  rope,  which  was  extended  more  than  three  hun- 
dred feet,  and  then  came  back  again,  with  all  the  ease  imag- 
inable, though  amid  glare  and  noise  sufficient  to  shake  the 
most  steady  nerves. 

We  left  quite  early,  that  we  might  secure  good  seats  in  the 
29 


338  LETTERS. 

first  omnibus,  which,  notwithstanding  our  haste,  did  not 
leave  till  the  last  moment,  greatly  to  the  annoyance  of  an  old 
Scotch  gentleman,  who  became  exceedingly  impatient,  though 
to  us  amusingly  so.  At  last  we  started,  but  before  we  got 
far  a  cab  ran  into  us,  and  that  hindered  us  a  half  hour  more, 
so  that  although  I  began  this  letter  Friday  night,  it  is  now 
pretty  near  Saturday  morning,  and  I  must  close,  or  I  shall 
not  get  sleep  enough  to  fit  me  for  the  "  wear  and  tear  "  of 
another  day.         As  always,  yours. 


London,  August  16th. 
My  dearest  F.  : 

You  will  begin  to  think  there  is  to  be  no  end  of  my  letters 
from  this  city,  but  remember  there  are  many  things  here  wor- 
thy to  be  seen,  and  that  I  cannot  dismiss  them  in  too  sum- 
mary a  manner.  We  have  become  quite  English  in  our 
habits,  no  day  passing  without  our  walking  at  least  eight 
miles,  and  that  too  in  defiance  of  wind  and  weather,  for  I 
believe  it  has  rained  about  every  day  since  we  have  been  in 
England,  though  this  is  by  no  means  the  rainy  season.  Au- 
gust and  September  are  by  many  here  considered  the  finest 
months  in  the  year,  and  every  one  tells  us  we  see  England  to 
the  best  advantage.  This  is  not  the  fashionable  season 
however  for  London,  so  we  cannot  have  any  opportunity  to 
see  the  great  ones,  they  being  at  their  country  seats  or  at 
watering  places  at  this  time  of  the  year. 

On  Saturday  wo  visited  the  House  of  Lords  and  the  House 
of  Commons,  in  both  of  which  we  were  much  disappointed, 
and  I  really  do  not  think  they  deserve  to  have  any  words  spent 
upon  them ;  but  I  suppose  you  will  like  to  know  something 
about  them,  and  that  you  may  have  some  idea  of  the  petty 
annoyances  we  meet  with  in  sight-seeing,  I  will  give  you  the 
full  particulars  connected  with  our  visit. 


LETTERS.  339 

We  met  a  man  in  the  street  near  Westminster  Abbey,  who 
asked  us  if  we  would  like  to  visit  the  two  Houses.  On  our 
answering  in  the  affirmative,  he  led  us  to  a  door,  where  he 
gave  us  over  to  the  care  of  a  woman,  who  conducted  us,  not 
to  either  House,  but  to  Westminster  Hall,  where  the  coro- 
nation banquet  always  takes  place.  It  is  two  hundred  and 
seventy  feet  long  and  seventy-two  wide,  and  is  one  of  the 
longest  halls,  without  a  pillar  to  support  the  roof,  in  the 
world.  The  ceiling  is  sustained  by  rafters  of  chestnut  wood, 
curiously  carved.  Ten  thousand  persons  can  dine  in  this 
hall  at  once.  Here  Richard  HI.  kept  his  Christmas  festival, 
when  twenty-eight  oxen,  three  hundred  sheep,  and  fowls  in- 
numerable were  consumed.  Each  day  the  guests  numbered 
ten  thousand,  and  two  thousand  cooks  were  employed  to  pre- 
pare the  viands.     Our  cicerone  there  demanded  one  shilling. 

At  the  door  we  met  our  man,  who  escorted  us  to  the  door 
of  the  House  of  Lords,  where  we  were  consigned  to  the 
hands  of  another  man,  who  at  last  led  us  into  the  long-talked 
of  House,  a  moderate  sized  room  with  a  side  gallery,  and 
benches  below,  covered  with  red  cloth,  for  the  Bishops  and 
Lords,  and  a  common  looking  throne  for  the  Queen.  Here 
we  paid  another  shilling.  As  we  came  out  we  met  our  first 
guide  ;  he  presented  a  companion  to  us,  saying,  "  Here  is  a 
man  who  will  show  you  the  House  of  Commons,  I  can't;  six- 
pence, sir,  if  you  please,"  and  away  he  went  to  look  out  for 
more  strangers.  After  walking  ten  steps  our  fourth  guide 
opened  a  door,  and  once  more  we  were  given  up  to  the  guid- 
ance of  still  another  man,  who  in  his  turn  committed  us  again 
to  female  care.  And  all  this  ceremony  to  see  the  House  of 
Commons,  a  little  "  tucked  up  "  room,  not  bigger  or  better 
looking  than  one  of  our  common  court  chambers  at  home ! 
We  turned  round  and  came  out,  the  woman  after  us,  saying, 
"  This  is  the  Ministerial  side,  sir,  and  that  is  the  Opposition 
side,  sir  ;  the  House  sits  next  week,  sir."  We  bowed  and 
passed  on,  but  she  hurried  along,  and  said,  *'  A  sixpence,  sir, 
if  you  please,  sir."     J.  motioned  as  though  he  would  give  the 


340  LETTERS. 

money  to  the  man  at  the  door,  on  which  she  ran  up  to  us  and 
cried  out  in  a  whining  tone,  **  I  takes  the  money,  sir."  La! 
I  felt  so  put  out  at  such  continual  imposition,  that  I  could 
have  scolded  her  right  well.  And  then  the  English  are  con- 
stantly talking  about  the  impositions  practised  upon  travellers 
in  Italy.  Why  really  it  seems  to  me  that  we  saw  nearly  all 
the  palaces  and  churches  in  Italy  at  less  expense,  than  the 
little  sight-seeing  we  have  accomplished  since  we  have  been 
in  London.  It  is  abominable,  and  I  regularly  lose  my  temper 
every  time  I  go  out. 

Yesterday  we  spent  a  quiet   Sunday,  with  Mr.  K.'s  family. 

Mr.  K.  was,  you  know,  a  classmate  of  J.'s  in  B College. 

In  the  morning  we  went  with  them  to  Surrey  Chapel,  the 
very  chapel  built  by  Rowland  Hill,  and  in  which  he  formerly 
preached.  It  is  a  large,  plain  looking  chapel,  of  octagonal 
shape,  with  a  gallery  running  entirely  around  it.  It  was  filled 
to  overflowing.  The  church  service  was  read  by  the  curate, 
after  which  Mr.  Sherman,  the  minister,  made  a  long  extem- 
porary prayer,  in  which  it  seemed  to  me  he  prayed  for  almost 
every  body,  and  under  all  imaginable  cases  of  necessity, 
affliction  and  sickness.  His  sermon  was  excellent ;  his  elo- 
quence, his  energy,  are  worthy  of  his  predecessor.  Under 
the  communion  table  that  predecessor  lies  buried. 

We  did  not  go  to  church  in  the  afternoon,  but  spent  the 
time  in  quiet  reading  and  conversation.  It  was  truly  re- 
freshing to  us,  to  spend  such  a  day,  after  the  noise  and  gaiety 
of  Sabbaths  on  the  continent.  We  left  after  an  early  tea, 
and  on  our  way  home  stopped  at  Mr.  Noel's  church.  We 
were  shown  into  a  pew  in  the  gallery,  and  very  soon  after  we 
got  there,  every  seat  in  the  house  was  occupied.  The  service 
was  read  by  the  same  clergyman  who  officiated  the  Sunday 
before,  Mr.  Noel  himself  not  coming  in  till  after  prayers 
In  his  sermon  we  were  much  interested  ;  his  style  and  man- 
ner are  gentle,  pleasing  and  persuasive,  his  address,  mild  but 
energetic,  his  voice  is  sweetness  itself.  Though  a  nobleman, 
and  the  son  of  a  peeress,  he  chose  to  be  a  servant  of  God 


LETTERS.  341 

rather  than  of  pleasure,  and  to  lay  his  wealth  and  his  honors 
at  his  Master's  feet. 

We  have  to-day  taken  a  delightful  excursion  to  Richmond 
and  its  environs.  Directly  after  breakfast  we  started  to  walk 
to  the  steam -boat,  which  was  advertised  to  leave  at  ten 
o'clock.  At  all  the  cross-walks  in  the  fashionable  streets  we 
meet  men  or  women,  who  take  it  upon  themselves  to  keep 
the  passage  clean  for  foot-passengers.  They  run  before  you, 
using  their  broom  to  such  purpose,  that  although  the  streets 
may  be  muddy,  (and  when  are  they  otherwise  in  London?)  you 
pass  without  detriment  to  your  well  polished  boots  and  shoes. 
Each  one  generally  expects  a  ha'penny  for  his  services.  In 
John  street  there  is  a  Hindoo  who  sweeps  the  cross-walk, 
and  he  looks  up  so  imploringly  yet  submissively  at  the  passers 
by,  and  turns  away  with  such  meek  sorrow  when  he  gets 
nothing,  that  I  can  never  pass  him  without  giving  him  some- 
thing. Several  times  I  have  tried  to  enter  into  conversation 
with  him,  but  he  never  will  answer  me. 

We  passed  through  the  Hungerford  market,  a  solid  stone 
building,  in  the  upper  story  of  which  are  fruit,  vegetables, 
butter,  eggs,  cheese,  &lc.,  and  in  the  lower,  nice  looking  fish, 
oysters,  crabs  and  lobsters.  We  do  not  fancy  the  oysters 
here,  they  have  a  "  coppery  "  taste.  We  have  many  spats  at 
our  boarding-house  in  relation  to  this  same  subject,  the  Eng- 
lish maintaining  that  their  oysters  are  the  nicest ;  the  Ameri- 
cans, with  their  usual  national  preferences,  standing  up  for 
their  own  ;  and  as  is  customary  with  all  such  controver- 
sies, each  party  seems  to  have  no  chance  of  convincing  the 
other. 

We  were  more  than  two  hours  in  going  to  Richmond, 
though  but  ten  miles  from  London,  but  we  were  obliged  to 
pick  our  way  through  steamers,  and  sailboats  and  wherries 
innumerable.  We  did  not  find  the  sail  at  all  tedious,  for 
many  different  objects  of  interest  attracted  our  attention. 
We  passed  under  several  of  the  bridges  over  the  Thames,  and 
so  had  a  good  opportuninity  of  noticing  how  firmly  and  sol- 
29* 


342  LETTERS. 

idly  they  were  built.  The  banks  of  the  river,  after  we  got 
out  of  the  city,  were  low,  and  bordered  with  handsome  parks 
and  villas.  The  meadows  were  covered  with  the  richest  green, 
and  sprinkled  over  with  venerable  old  trees.  We  passed  the 
villa  of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  and  that  of  the  Duchess 
of  Kent,  where  Victoria  spent  her  youthful  days. 

As  soon  as  we  stopped  at  Richmond  we  took  an  omnibus 
for  Hampton  Court.  I  think  (an  Englishman  "thinks" 
when  a  Yankee  *'  guesses,")  the  ride  was  pleasant,  though 
the  "  bus  "  was  so  crammed,  I  merely  caught  snatches  of  the 
country.  The  approach  to  Hampton  Court  was  delightful, 
through  a  beautiful  park  called  Bushy  Park,  belonging  to  the 
Q,ueen  Dowager.  Under  the  trees  were  groups  of  people 
enjoying  a  rural  dinner. 

Hampton  Court  was  commenced  by  Cardinal  Wolsey,  but 
was  given  to  Henry  VHI.  in  1526.  It  is  an  immense  pal- 
ace, built  in  different  styles  of  architecture.  The  rooms 
were  crowded  with  visitors,  the  palace  being  thrown  open  to 
the  public,  and  no  fees  are  demanded.  There  are  some  su- 
perb paintings  by  the  old  Italian  masters,  but  the  most  of  the 
pictures  are  portraits  by  English  artists.  Independent  of 
their  own  intrinsic  merits,  they  afforded  us  much  interest 
and  amusement  from  the  different  styles  and  manners  therein 
portrayed.  One  room  is  filled  with  portraits  of  the  belles  of 
the  two  Charleses.  They  are  indeed  exquisitely  beautiful. 
Pity  that  so  much  moral  depravity  should  have  been  con- 
cealed under  such  winning  faces  and  forms. 

The  King's  state-bed  has  hangings  of  purple  satin,  richly 
embroidered.  The  Queen's  bed-curtains  are  of  velvet. 
There  is  but  little  furniture  however  in  this  palace.  It  is 
mostly  visited  for  its  pictures.  Quite  as  great  a  treat  to  us 
was  the  park.  It  is  laid  out  in  magnificent  style,  I  think 
even  superior  to  that  at  Versailles.  The  majestic  trees,  the 
open  glades,  the  beautiful  flowers,  the  lakes  and  canals,  the 
deer  gambolling  about,  all  conspire  to  make  it  enchanting. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  green  of  the  meadows  is  brighter  and 


LETTERS.  343 

richer  here  than  any  where  else.  I  could  have  rambled  for 
hours  in  that  delightful  spot.  What  a  fit  place  for  meditation 
at  eventide,  and  at  early  morn,  when  the  repose  of  all  nature 
leads  the  soul,  with  its  freshest,  purest  thoughts,  to  God ! 

Nor  must  I  forget  the  green-house,  in  which  is  the  largest 
grape  vine  in  the  world.  Really  the  stem  is  like  the  trunk 
of  a  small  tree,  it  being  thirteen  inches  round.  In  one  year 
this  vine  produced  two  thousand  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
two  bunches,  which  were  all  appropriated  for  the  Queen's 
table.  It  is  already  loaded  with  purple  clusters.  One  branch 
of  the  vine  is  over  one  hundred  feet  long. 

In  one  part  of  the  park  is  **  the  maze,"  or  wilderness.  It 
only  covers  a  quarter  of  an  acre,  yet  one  might  be  kept 
there  two  or  three  hours.  There  are  two  paths,  one  at  the 
right  of  the  entrance,  the  other  at  the  left.  They  wind  and 
twist  and  turn  about,  till  in  attempting  to  follow  them,  you 
get  completely  bewildered,  and  it  is  by  no  means  an  easy 
task  to  find  your  way  out.  The  paths  are  bordered  by  a 
high  hawthorn  hedge,  so  that  no  one  can  jump  over,  or  even 
peep  through  to  see  how  he  is  coming  out.  We  got  out 
sooner  than  any  of  the  others,  but  we  were  a  long  time 
wandering  about,  sometimes  being  quite  "  fetched  up,"  and 
then  being  obliged  to  turn  around,  and  get  into  another 
path.  The  bursts  of  laughter  resounding  from  every  side, 
told  how  amusingly  perplexing  all  found  it. 

We  came  back  to  Richmond  in  "  a  fly,"  an  open  carriage, 
so  we  had  a  good  opportunity  to  view  the  rich  country  and 
beautiful  villas.  We  passed  a  splendid  house  in  the  Gothic 
style,  belonging  to  Lord  Waldegrave,  formerly  owned  by 
Horace  Walpole.     It  is  a  perfect  gem. 

We  walked  some  time  around  -Richmond,  a  pretty  little 
town.  We  went  into  the  church  where  Thomson  is 
buried.  A  tablet  on  the  wall  bears  the  following  inscrip- 
tion :  "  In  the  earth  below  this  tablet,  are  the  remains  of 
James  Thomson,  author  of  the  beautiful  poems,  entitled 
The  Seasons,  The  Castle  of  Indolence,  &/C.,  who  died  at 


344  LETTERS. 

Richmond,  on  the  22d  of  August,  and  was  buried  there  on 
the  28th,  O.  S.,  1748.  The  Earl  of  Buchan,  unwilling  that 
so  good  a  man  and  so  sweet  a  poet,  should  be  without  a 
memorial,  has  denoted  the  place  of  his  interment  for  the 
satisfaction  of  his  admirers,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1792." 
Underneath  is  this  from  his  Winter. 

"  Father  of  light  and  life !    Thou  good  Supreme  ! 
Oh !  teach  me  what  is  good  ;  teach  me  thyself, 
Save  me  from  folly,  vanity  and  vice, 
From  every  low  pursuit,  and  feed  my  soul 
With  knowledge,  conscious  peace,  and  virtue  pure, 
Sacred,  substantial,  never  fading  bliss." 

We  attempted  to  find  the  house  where  the  poet  used  to 
live,  supposing,  of  course,  every  body  would  know  so  dis- 
tinguished a  spot.  We  were  told  in  London  that  it  was  in 
Kewfoot  Lane  ;  this  we  easily  found,  but  not  thus  easily  the 
house.  In  vain  we  asked  ;  no  one  knew  "  Mr.  Thomson." 
We  asked  a  young  girl  if  she  could  tell  us  where  "  Rossdale 
house"  was.  She  said  "No,"  but  that  she  knew  where 
Rose  cottage  was,  and  that  a  Mrs.  Steele  lived  there.  We 
asked  her  if  it  was  where  Thomson  formerly  lived.  "  Oh  no, 
I  think  not,"  said  she,  *'  for  Mrs.  Steele  has  lived  there  for 
some  time."  Just  as  we  were  on  the  point  of  giving  up  the 
pursuit,  we  found  the  house.  We  rang  the  bell  at  the  gate. 
A  maid  came,  and  in  answer  to'  our  inquiries  if  we  could 
see  Thomson's  garden,  said  "  her  ladyship  permits  strangers 
to  go  in."  So  without  knowing  who  "  her  ladyship  "  was, 
we  went  in. 

How  beautiful  is  this  garden !  A  man  quite  uninspired 
by  the  spirit  of  poesy  might  here  be  prompted  to  write. 
Every  thing  was  as  neat  and  orderly  as  possible,  and  the 
gardener  told  us  it  was  just  as  Thomson  left  it.  In  the 
most  rural  part  of  the  grounds  are  his  favorite  seat,  (a  small 
arbor,)  and  the  very  table  on  which  he  wrote.  Over  the 
entrace  to  the  arbor  is  written, 

"  Here  Thomson  sung  the  seasons  and  their  change." 


LETTERS.  345 

Report  says  he  was  one  of  the  laziest  men  that  ever  lived, 
and  that  although  he  wrote  so  beautifully  of  the  charms  of 
the  early  morning,  he  was  a  late  riser.  He  used  to  walk 
about  the  garden  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  too  indolent 
to  pick  the  fruit  from  the  trees,  but  he  would  stop  under 
them,  and  bite  out  a  piece  when  within  his  reach. 

Just  as  we  were  starting  from  Richmond,  a  policeman 
came  and  took  away  our  captain.  It  was  a  long  time  before 
we  could  make  out  what  all  the  fuss  was  about,  but  by  dint 
of  inquiries,  it  seemed  that  as  the  boat  was  coming  down 
the  river,  and  was  passing  under  a  bridge,  it  ran  against  a 
little  boat,  capsizing  it,  and  thereby  causing  a  young  man 
in  it  to  be  drowned  ;  so  the  boat  was  not  allowed  to  leave 
Richmond  to  night,  and  we  were  obliged  to  wait  an  hour 
for  another  boat  to  come  along.  It  was  nearly  sunset  when 
we  started,  and  we  had  a  charming  sail  down  the  river. 
The  air  was  balmy,  and  the  scenery  seemed  inexpressively 
lovely,  seen  as  it  was  by  the  softened  light  of  the  closing 
day. 

Let  me  record  the  fact  that  it  has  not  rained  to-day,  at 
least  not  where  we  have  been  ;  it  may  have  been  a  little 
more  pleasant  in  the  country  than  in  the  smoky  city.  I 
must  tell  you  how  disappointed  we  have  been  to-day,  in 
hearing  that  her  Majesty  is  not  to  open  Parliament  next 
week,  her  physicians  having  declared  that  it  would  be  de- 
cidedly disadvantageous  in  her  present  state  of  health  ;  so 
we  must  take  a  trip  to  Windsor,  for  we  cannot  think  of 
going  home  without  seeing  the  "  island  queen."  Again, 
adieu. 


346  LETTERS. 


London,  Wednesday  eve. 
My  dear  p.  : 

Still  in  London,  and  still  spending  several  hours  a  day  in 
seeing  the  lions  of  this  great  metropolis.  Through  the 
kindness  of  our  friend,  Mr.  P.,  we  were  furnished  with 
tickets  for  the  Polytechnic  Institution,  a  receptacle  for  all 
sorts  of  inventions,  and  where  lectures  are  daily  given  on 
some  scientific  subject.  It  is  in  reality  a  museum,  in  which 
there  is  a  little  of  every  thing.  I  cannot  begin  to  enumerate 
the  "  things  which  I  saw  "  there.  There  were  all  kinds  of 
machines  for  stamping,  engraving,  coining,  grinding,  and 
cutting,  a  printing  press,  throwing  off  daily  copies  of  the 
journal  of  the  institution,  agricultural  instruments,  models 
of  churches,  monuments  and  ships,  a  canal  with  locks,  to 
show  the  principles  on  which  they  are  constructed,  and  a 
diving-bell,  the  experiments  with  which  we  could  not  see,  as 
they  did  not  take  place  till  later  in  the  day.  We  saw  also 
tables  of  marble  and  porphyry,  chessboards  made  of  marble 
and  rare  woods  in  imitation  of  mosaic,  chessmen  of  exquisite 
workmanship,  boxes  made  by  the  Chinese,  two  tables  that 
could  play  several  tunes,  clocks  of  all  forms,  and  specimens 
of  the  most  minute  cutlery  ever  made,  little  scissors,  knives, 
and  a  small  razor.  In  addition  to  these,  there  was  a  minia- 
ture compass,  and  a  pair  of  spectacles,  about  large  enough 
for  a  sixpenny  doll. 

We  heard  a  lecture  on  the  Daguerreotype  process  of  paint- 
ing, just  now  coming  in  vogue.  It  was  exceedingly  interest- 
ing to  us,  but  I  will  not  bore  you  with  any  analysis  of  the 
subject. 

At  one  o'clock  we  went  into  a  darkened  hall,  where  we 
saw  something  entirely  new  to  us,  called  ''  Dissolving  Views." 
The  first  was  a  sea  scene,  and  while  we  were  looking  at  it, 
the  ship  melted  away,  and  a  castle,  in  the  midst  of  mountain 
scenery,  appeared  in  its  stead,  one  view  not  succeeding  an- 
other, as  in  the  magic  lantern,  but  constituent  parts  of  one 


LETTERS.  347 

scene,  instantly  resolving  themselves  into  constituent  parts 
of  another.  The  castle  was  soon  converted  into  a  church, 
where  "  adown  the  long  aisle"  was  seen  a  procession  of 
priests  clad  in  white  robes,  while  the  illusion  was  increased 
by  hearing  singing  and  music  at  a  little  distance.  Some  of 
the  scenes  were  quite  familiar  to  us,  the  Castle  of  Chillon 
on  Lake  Geneva,  the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa,  and  the  Palace 
of  the  Doges  in  Venice.  This  last  was  perfect;  the  light 
Gothic  arches,  the  blue  water,  dotted  with  gondolas,  carried 
us  quickly  back  to  "the  city  of  the  hundred  isles." 

At  one  time  we  gazed  on  a  large  ship  at  sea,  her  sails  all 
set,  and  she  apparently  cutting  her  way  through  the  waves.  In 
a  moment  the  scene  was  changed,  the  sea  was  convulsed,  the 
ship  lay  on  her  "  beam  ends,"  and  the  water  poured  over  her 
sides.  It  made  me  shudder  to  think  of  the  wide  ocean  which 
we  have  yet  to  traverse,  and  that  the  fate  of  that  ship  might 
be  ours  also.  Again  we  saw  an  East  Indiaman  close  to  land, 
hailing  once  more  the  welcome  shore,  but  in  a  second,  that 
gallant  ship  was  lit  up  with  lurid  flames,  and  sail  after  sail 
caught  and  spread  the  devastating  element. 

We  were  much  pleased  with  these  views,  because  so  unlike 
any  thing  we  have  ever  before  seen. 

We  next  visited  the  National  Gallery,  a  large  and  hand- 
some building  in  Trafalgar  square.  In  the  Gallery  we  were 
highly  delighted.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  For  there  I 
heard  names  that  made  my  heart  beat  quickly  ;  Guido,  Ra- 
phael, Coreggio,  Da  Vinci,  Murillo,  Titian,  Tintoretto,  Ca- 
racci,  Rubens,  Rembrandt,  and  Claude.  These  seemed 
dearer  to  me  than  ever,  because  I  never  expected  to  meet 
them  more,  except  in  print.  Here  Coreggio  seemed  more 
faultless  than  ever.  Shall  I  soon  forget  the  expression  of 
agony  on  the  face  of  Christ,  as  He  appears  with  the  purple 
robe  of  scorn  and  the  crown  of  thorns,  whilst  those  who  oft 
ministered  to  Him,  stand  by  with  sorrowing  faces  ?  And 
then  the  sweet  face  of  Mary  in  his  "  Holy  Family,"  and  the 
seraphic  look  of  Raphael's  St,  Catherine,  and  the  mild,  per- 


348  LETTERS. 

suasive,  gentle  face  of  Christ  in  Da  Vinci's  "  Christ  Dis- 
puting with  the  Doctors,"  and  those  sunny  landscapes  of 
Claude's,  and  the  charming  figures  by  Murillo,  —  oh,  these 
were  all  inexpressively  lovely  ! 

But  were  I  to  describe  all,  it  would  take  me  half  the  night ; 
suffice  it  to  say  that  there  are  more  than  two  hundred  pic- 
tures by  the  "  old  masters,"  and  nearly  every  one  of  them  is 
good.  Some  of  Titian's  and  Rubens'  we  thought  not  equal 
to  those  we  saw  in  Italy. 

Besides  these,  there  are  many  paintings  by  English  ar- 
tists, of  whose  productions  we  have  hitherto  seen  but  few 
specimens.  Reynolds,  Wilkie,  Hogarth  and  West  are  the 
most  celebrated.  Reynolds  I  do  not  like  ;  Hogarth  and 
Wilkie  depict  humorous  scenes ;  West  is  too  well  known  in 
your  own  country  to  need  a  panegyric  here. 

You  will  notice  that  I  have  not  my  usual  variety  of  de- 
scriptions in  this  letter,  for  I  have  been  obliged  to  rest  a  little 
more  the  last  two  days  than  I  have  lately  done.  I  am  indeed 
quite  wearied  out.  To-morrow  we  change  the  scene  by  leav- 
ing London  for  a  few  days,  so  look  out  for  something  new  in 
my  next  letter. 


WiNDSOBj  Saturday  eve. 
My  dear  p.: 

Prepare  yourself  now  for  a  long  letter.  Lay  in  a  good 
stock  of  patience,  for  before  I  get  through,  I  shall  encroach 
pretty  largely  upon  it.  Since  we  left  London,  I  have  been 
so  busy  that  I  have  had  no  time  to  write  to  you,  so  I  must 
sum  up  all  our  adventures  in  this  one  epistle. 

On  Thursday  morning  we  left  London  for  Cambridge. 
For  the  first  time  I  mounted  on  the  top  of  a  coach,  with 
which  elevated  position  I  was  so  much  pleased,  that  I  shall 
not   hereafter  readily  relinquish  it.     The  country  through 


LETTERS.  349 

which  we  passed  was  delightful,  and  I  already  appreciate  the 
praises  bestowed  upon  English  scenery.  It  has  not,  to  be 
sure,  the  high  mountains  and  secluded  vales  of  Switzerland, 
nor  the  vine-clad  hills  and  orange  and  lemon  groves  of  fair 
Italy,  nor  the  sunny  plains  of  Lombardy ;  but  it  has  the 
charms  arising  from  a  well  cultivated  and  well  watered  land. 
It  has  rural  and  domestic  beauty  well  combined. 

We  passed  through  a  country  sufficiently  hilly  to  prevent 
the  scenery  from  being  tame  ;  the  meadows  were  clothed 
with  the  brightest  green,  or  yellow  with  the  ripened  grain. 
The  cows  lay  in  luxurious  indolence  under  the  shade  of  an- 
cient trees,  and  the  sheep  browsed  upon  the  hill-side,  and  the 
little  villages  had  a  neat  and  clean  and  thrifty  look.  And 
then  the  country  seats  and  parks  that  we  passed,  so  beautiful 
and  so  well  laid  out,  with  the  large  old  trees  and  velvet  lawns, 
and  the  pretty  hawthorn  hedge  intersecting  the  fields  in  every 
direction,  and  the  laborers  at  work,  binding  the  wheat  into 
sheaves,  or  raking  the  newly  mown  hay,  or  resting  beneath 
the  trees,  taking  their  rural  meal ;  the  busy  gleaners,  scat- 
tered over  a  field  but  lately  shorn  of  its  grain  ;  all  these  added 
beauty  to  the  scene,  and  made  the  landscape  charming  in  the 
highest  degree. 

Cambridge  is  a  common  looking  town ;  the  streets  are 
narrow,  and  the  houses  not  very  handsome,  but  the  beauty 
and  the  glory  of  the  place  are  its  Colleges.  We  spent  two 
hours  in  rambling  around  them,  our  hearts  yearning  after 
their  quiet  beauties,  and  longing  to  be  among  the  favored 
ones  permitted  to  study  amid  these  classic  shades.  There  are 
seventeen  different  colleges,  each  being  built  of  light  colored 
stone,  in  Gothic  style.  The  courts  of  these  buildings  are 
kept  in  the  nicest  manner  ;  gravel  walks  run  around  them, 
but  the  centre  is  covered  with  grass,  not  high  and  waving, 
but  closely  shorn,  seem.ing  like  velvet  to  the  touch. 

We  visited  King's  College  Chapel.     Who  has  not  heard 
of  it  1     Yet  in  hearing,  the  half  is  not  known ;  it  must  be 
seen  to  be  appreciated.     It  is  in  the  purest  Gothic  style, 
30 


350  LETTERS, 

having  towers  and  buttresses  and  large  painted  windows.  If 
the  exterior  strikes  the  eye,  the  interior  at  once  fixes  your 
attention.  It  is  three  hundred  feet  long,  and  is  without  a 
pillar,  the  roof  being  supported  entirely  by  the  buttresses,  so 
that  if  the  walls  were  removed,  the  roof  would  still  stand 
firmly.  And  this  is  the  more  wonderful,  because  the  roof  is 
of  solid  stone,  and  is  of  immense  weight  and  strength.  The 
walls  are  adorned  with  handsome  carvings,  among  which  are 
the  arms  of  Henry  VII.  The  screen  between  the  choir  and 
the  nave  is  of  oak,  beautifully  carved,  and  having  the  arms 
of  Henry  VIII.  and  Anne  Boleyn.  Within  the  choir  are 
seats  or  stalls,  finely  carved,  and  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
choir,  a  magnificent  window  of  riclily  stained  glass. 

By  winding  steps  we  ascended  to  the  roof,  where  we  had 
a  good  opportunity  to  survey  the  beauties  around  us.  We 
could  look  down  into  all  the  quadrangles  of  the  colleges, 
upon  the  neat  chaste  edifices,  upon  the  river  Cam,  not  wider, 
to  be  sure,  than  a  mill  stream,  but  bordered  by  the  most 
beautiful  trees,  through  which  peeped  many  a  rustic  bridge, 
and  upon  the  delightful  walks  stretching  beyond. 

After  we  left  the  chapel,  we  crossed  the  river  by  one  of 
the  bridges,  and  for  more  than  an  hour  loitered  around  under 
those  fine  old  trees.  The  sky  was  unclouded,  the  air  was 
soft,  the  birds  sang  cheerily,  and  the  setting  sun  threw  a 
golden  tint  over  the  fair  landscape.  While  we  walked  we 
communed  with  by-gone  days,  thinking  of  the  old  illustrious 
dead  who  oft  had  trod  these  very  paths,  hallowing  the  spot  by 
their  pious  sentiments.  And  how  well  calculated  is  such  a 
scene  for  holy  contemplations,  for  all  things  speak  of  God. 
The  very  trees  seemed  to  lift  their  lofty  tops  to  the  sky  in 
praise  of  Him,  the  whole  air  was  redolent  with  His  love,  and 
the  perfect  silence  that  reigned  through  these  walks,  ren- 
dered them  more  fit  to  be  a  temple  for  the  living  God. 

These  walks  extend  two  or  three  miles  from  the  river. 
Each  college  has  its  own  bridge  over  the  Cam,  and  its  own 
walks.  We  were  loath  to  leave  so  charming  a  spot,  but  at  last 


LETTERS.  351 

we  were  forced  to  retrace  our  steps.  Then  through  the  trees 
we  caught  many  glimpses  of  the  noble  buildings,  and  occa- 
sionally met  a  stray  student  wearing  the  collegiate  gown  and 
cap,  and  wandering  along  the  now  desolate  walks,  for  this  is 
the  period  of  "  the  long  vacation." 

We  were  all  day  yesterday  on  the  way  from  Cambridge  to 
Oxford,  the  distance  being  ninety  miles.  The  ride  was  truly 
delightful,  the  country  still  more  charming  than  the  day  be- 
fore. Just  after  we  left  Cambridge,  we  met  the  gleaners 
going  from  the  fields,  their  garments  wet  with  the  dew,  and 
their  arms  loaded  with  grain.  I  thought  from  the  abun- 
dance gleaned  that  there  must  have  been  a  Boaz  to  com- 
mand the  reapers  to  let  fall  a  few  ears  for  the  handmaidens. 

We  passed  through  many  towns,  having  names  reminding 
us  of  home;  Ellington,  Hingham,  Northampton,  and  others. 
We  also  passed  by  many  country  seats.  Lord  Southampton's 
park  bordered  for  some  distance  one  side  of  the  road.  The 
village  near  his  estate  is  a  pretty,  rustic  little  thing,  the 
houses  having  Gothic  porches.  We  saw,  at  a  little  distance, 
Stowe,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  Blenheim, 
presented  to  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  by  the  crown,  after 
the  battle  of  Blenheim.  The  country  abounded  with  church- 
es, mostly  in  the  Gothic  style.  At  one  time  when  we  were 
on  the  summit  of  a  hill,  we  counted  eight  spires. 

As  we  entered  Oxford,  we  passed  by  the  monument  being 
erected  to  the  martyrs.  The  pedestal  is  square,  but  the  top 
is  to  be  finished  in  Gothic  style,  having  niches  for  the  statues 
of  Cranmer,  Latimer  and  Ridley. 

We  were  a  little  disappointed  in  Oxford,  perhaps  because 
we  had  heard  it  so  highly  lauded.  The  town  is  doubtless 
superior  to  Cambridge,  but  the  buildings  connected  with  the 
University  are  inferior  to  those  of  the  former  place,  and  the 
grounds  around  them  are  not  half  so  pretty  nor  so  nicely 
kept,  the  grass  growing  in  many  places  wild  and  long.  In 
short,  every  thing  looks  as  if  it  was  going  to  decay.  The 
colleges  have  an  antique  appearance,  though  many  of  them 


352  LETTERS. 

have  lately  been  repaired.  There  are  nineteen  colleges  and 
five  halls ;  some  of  them  have  singular  names  —  "  Jesus  Col- 
lege," "Body  of  Christ,"  ''All  Souls',"  and  "Magdalen." 
The  oldest  of  them  is  "University  College,"  which  was  com- 
menced in  872. 

We  visited  the  principal  edifices  to  the  ruination  of  our 
pockets,  being  obliged  at  each  place  to  give  at  least  one  shil- 
ling. We  first  went  into  the  hall  where  the  prize  poems  are 
recited,  and  the  degrees  conferred.  This,  the  female  cice- 
rone told  us,  is  an  imposing  sight.  The  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, as  Chancellor,  sits  in  his  chair  of  state,  and  wears  a 
robe  of  black  satin,  trimmed  with  gold  lace;  the  noblemen 
appear  in  purple  robes,  while  the  Dean  and  high  officers  of 
the  University  are  decked  in  crimson  array.  This  hall  is  in 
the  form  of  an  amphitheatre,  and  will  seat  four  thousand  per- 
sons. I  had  the  honor  of  sitting  in  the  chair  of  the  "  Iron 
Duke,"  a  high-back  chair  of  dark  oak.  Among  the  portraits 
in  this  hall,  were  those  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria  and  the 
King  of  Prussia,  taken  at  the  time  the  degrees  were  confer- 
red upon  them.  We  also  were  shown  the  chair  in  which 
Prince  Albert  sat  when  he  received  the  degree,  (though  of 
what  I  know  not.)  It  was  of  crimson  velvet  in  a  frame  of 
oak  gilded. 

We  visited  three  chapels,  of  which  I  shall  say  but  little. 
These  were  all  in  the  Gothic  style,  and  all  had  windows  of 
stained  glass,  some  five  hundred  years  old,  and  some  of  more 
recent  date.  In  "  New  College  Chapel  "  we  saw  a  crosier 
belonging  to  one  of  the  old  bishops  ;  it  is  shaped  like  a  shep- 
herd's crook,  and  is  inlaid  with  gold  and  silver.  Behind  this 
chapel  was  a  fine  walk,  bordered  with  flowers.  The  wall 
surrounding  it  is  a  part  of  the  old  city  wall,  now  overgrown 
with  ivy. 

In  the  quadrangle  front  of  Magdalen  College,  we  saw  in 
one  corner,  a  little  pulpit,  called  "  Friar  Bacon's  pulpit," 
from  which  he  used  to  preach.  At  the  opposite  end  is  the 
house  of  the  Provost ;  he  has  been  in  office  fifty-one  years, 
and  is  the  oldest  Fellow  of  the  College  in  Oxford. 


LETTERS.  353 

Cf  all  the  chapels  in  Oxford,  Magdalen  Chapel  is  the  most 
beautiful.  It  has  been  lately  fitted  up,  but  in  the  same  style 
as  of  old.  The  seats  are  of  carved  oak,  the  walls  and  ceil- 
ing are  of  stone,  richly  sculptured.  The  altar  is  covered 
with  bas-reliefs,  representing  the  Annunciation,  the  Nativity, 
the  Deposition  from  the  Cross,  the  Resurrection  and  the  As- 
cension. Besides  this,  there  is  a  magnificent  painting  of 
Christ  bearing  the  Cross,  supposed  for  a  long  time  to  have 
been  by  Guido,  but  now  known  to  be  by  Morallio,  a  Spanish 
artist,  whose  works  are  very  rare.  I  asked  our  cicerone  if 
he  was  sure  that  was  the  name,  for  I  never  before  heard  it, 
but  although  he  repeated  his  assertion,  I  think  he  must  have 
been  mistaken,  and  that  the  painter  was  Murillo.  But  be  it 
by  whom  it  may,  it  is  an  exquisite  gem.  The  face  is  ex- 
pressive of  pain,  yet  full  of  meek  submission,  and  the  body 
bends  under  the  weight  of  the  heavy  cross. 

In  a  little  chapel  formerly  used  as  a  private  oratory,  is  the 
tomb  of  the  founder  of  the  College,  the  father  of  Bishop 
Winchester.  It  is  of  alabaster,  surmounted  by  a  recumbent 
statue  of  the  deceased.  The  arms  of  the  family  are  a  lily  ; 
hence  the  abundance  of  lilies  in  the  carvings  about  the 
chapel. 

Magdalen  College  is  the  largest  of  all  the  colleges,  and 
looks  much  fresher  and  neater  than  the  other  buildings,  it 
having  been  recently  repaired.  Back  of  it  is  a  circular  walk 
planted  around  with  trees,  the  branches  of  which  meet  at  the 
top.  This  is  called  "  Addison's  Walk,"  having  been  the 
favorite  resort  of  that  poet.  The  plat  in  the  centre  is  but 
poorly  cared  for,  the  grass  growing  rank  and  high. 

We  visited  Christ  Church,  built  in  the  old  Saxon  style 
with  round  arches.  Among  the  tombs  there  is  one  of  a  saint, 
a  daughter  of  one  of  the  Saxon  kings.  It  is  two  stories  high, 
and  the  steps  leading  to  the  top  are  quite  worn,  having  been 
much  used  by  the  devotees  of  past  ages. 

We  walked  by  St.  Peter's  Church,  the  oldest  in  the  town, 
being  more  than  eleven  hundred  years  old.     The  walls  were 
30* 


354  LETTERS. 

SO  thick,  that  enough  has  been  taken  from  the  interior  to 
make  room  for  sixty  more  seats  in  the  church.  It  has  an 
antique  appearance.  In  fact,  every  thing  about  the  colleges 
at  Oxford  bears  the  appearance  of  age,  and  in  some  places 
even  of  decay,  so  that  at  first  they  suffer  in  comparison  with 
the  perfect  neatness  and  finish  of  the  buildings  at  Cambridge, 
though  I  think  they  grow  upon  one's  affections  and  fancy, 
after  a  while. 

From  Oxford  we  came  here  partly  by  coach  and  partly  by 
rail-road.  On  the  rail-road  we  came  very  rapidly,  I  think 
rather  quicker  than  our  usual  rate  of  travelling  at  home. 
When  in  London  our  friends  advised  us  in  going  on  the  rail- 
road, always  to  take  the  second-class  cars.  At  this  we  de- 
murred, pleading  that  we  never  did  any  thing  of  the  kind  at 
home,  but  we  were  told  in  answer  to  all  our  objections,  that 
every  body  practised  it  in  this  country,  except  the  nobility 
and  the  very  richest  and  most  exclusive  persons,  and  that 
furthermore  the  first-class  carriages  were  so  shut  up,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  see  any  thing  from  them,  so  we  finally 
yielded,  and  to-day  took  the  second-class,  generally  half  or 
three  fourths  the  price  of  the  first-class.  By  the  way,  you 
never  hear  the  word  *'  cars"  here ;  they  are  called  carriages. 
A  rail-road  is  "  rail-way,"  and  in  speaking  of  the  hours  of 
starting,  they  say,  the  "  rail  goes."  Depots  are  "  stations" 
here.  The  arrangements  on  this  road,  a  part  of  '*  the  Great 
Western  Rail-way,"  are  admirable.  At  regular  intervals 
men  are  stationed,  to  see  that  there  is  nothing  on  the  track, 
and  if  all  is  clear  at  the  time  of  the  '*  rail "  coming  along, 
they  stand  with  their  arm  extended,  and  thus  they  can  be 
seen  from  some  distance.  If  they  are  not  at  their  posts,  the 
engineer  slackens  his  pace,  and  thus  the  most  perfect  care  is 
taken  to  avoid  accidents.  The  doors  of  the  **  carriages  " 
are  locked,  so  that  no  one  can  get  in  or  out,  without  the 
knowledge  of  the  conductor.  All  the  men  employed  on  this 
road  wear  an  uniform  of  dark  green  cloth,  corded  with  red, 
having  on  the  collar  of  the  coat  the  letters  G.  W.  R. 


LETTERS.  355 

The  stopping  place  for  Windsor  is  Slough,  two  miles  from 
here,  where  we  took  a  cab.  We  eagerly  looked  out  for  the 
Castle,  and  as  soon  as  we  caught  sight  of  it  we  saw  the  broad 
pennon  waving  from  the  top  of  "  the  round  tower,"  in  token 
that  her  majesty  was  yet  there.  Had  she  left  for  London, 
we  intended  returning  this  evening. 

As  soon  as  we  selected  our  rooms  at  the  hotel,  we  started 
off  for  the  Castle.  It  is  a  noble  pile  of  buildings  in  the  cas- 
tellated Gothic  style,  ornamented  with  towers  and  buttresses 
and  arched  gateways.  It  is  built  of  small  slabs  of  grey  stone, 
and  is  surrounded  by  a  magnificent  park,  extending  more 
than  fourteen  miles  around.  Just  as  we  reached  the  front  of 
the  Castle,  we  were  told  that  the  Princess  Royal  was  ex- 
pected out,  so  we  joined  with  the  multitude  eager  to  see  the 
royal  baby.  While  waiting,  we  gazed  around,  first  on  the 
castle,  then  on  the  park,  longing  to  be  walking  beneath  some 
of  those  old  majestic  trees.  Directly  in  front  of  the  gate  of 
the  castle,  and  within  the  park,  stretches  a  straight  road,  two 
miles  long,  bordered  with  noble  oaks.  This  is  called  "  the 
long  walk,"  and  is  usually  the  ride  of  the  royal  party.  But 
the  sound  of  wheels  within  one  of  the  courts  of  the  castle, 
recalled  our  attention,  the  porter  with  a  flourish  opened  the 
gates,  and  out  came  a  horseman,  followed  by  a  barouche,  in 
which  sat  the  nurse,  holding  in  her  arms  the  heir  apparent 
to  the  throne,  the  Princess  Victoria  Adelaide  Maria  Louisa. 
She  is  a  cunning  little  thing,  about  nine  months  old,  and  is 
really  quite  pretty,  with  her  fair  complexion  and  light  blue 
eyes.  For  the  amusement  of  the  women-kind  at  home,  I 
will  tell  you  how  she  was  dressed,  and  let  them  judge  how 
becoming  such  a  costume  would  be.  She  wore  a  white  cam- 
bric pelisse,  having  a  great  wide  cape,  and  a  broad  black 
belt,  and  a  straw  bonnet,  trimmed  around  the  crown  with 
white  plaited  ribbon,  and  quite  large  enough  for  a  child  four 
years  old.  And  this  little  sprig  of  royalty  has  her  carriage 
and  horses  and  attendants,  and  takes  her  airing  twice  every 
day,  which  event  is  duly  announced  in  the  "  London  Times" 


356  LETTERS. 

the  next  day.     Furthermore,  she  is  allowed  the  nice  sum  of 
ten  thousand  pounds  a  year  for  her  individual  expenses. 

The  baby  has  passed  by ;  the  crowds  have  duly  bowed 
and  paid  their  court  to  it,  and  once  more  turn  to  the  castle 
gate  to  await  the  coming  of  the  royal  mother.  Every  eye  is 
turned  to  the  clock,  for  the  queen  is  known  to  be  punctual, 
and  just  at  the  moment,  the  gate  once  more  swings  back, 
and  two  horsemen  issue  therefrom,  announcing  the  coming 
of  the  queen.  She  came  in  a  low  open  carriage,  drawn  by 
two  horses,  and  driven  by  "  His  Royal  Highness  Prince  Albert 
of  Saxe  Cobourg."  So  totally  unlike  is  she  from  all  the 
portraits  I  have  seen  of  her,  that  I  thought  I  must  be  mis- 
taken, and  I  drew  back  from  the  crowd,  saying,  in  a  tone  of 
disappointment,  ''  Is  that  her  majesty  ?  "  The  carriage  came 
slowly  along,  so  I  had  a  good  opportunity  to  take  a  full  sur- 
vey (everybody  is  allowed  to  stare  at  royalty).  She  has  a 
light  though  not  a  clear  complexion,  bluish  grey  eyes,  a  small 
mouth,  but  full  lips,  and  rather  projecting  teeth,  and  is  ex- 
cessively grave  looking.  To  the  bows  and  greetings  of  the 
multitude,  she  answered  by  an  almost  imperceptible  inclina- 
tion of  the  head,  and  a  slight  wave  of  the  hand,  which  by 
the  way  is  small  and  well  shaped,  but  no  smile  appeared  on 
her  lips.  Prince  Albert,  too,  looked  quite  as  grave,  which 
made  me  think  they  had  been  having  a  matrimonial  squabble; 
but  doubtless  they  do  not  consider  it  consistent  with  royal 
dignity  to  laugh  and  look  cheerful,  at  least  in  public.  "  His 
Royal  Highness "  is  a  fine  looking  man ;  and  to-day  was 
dressed  entirely  in  black,  even  to  a  weed  upon  his  hat,  being 
in  mourning  for  some  of  his  German  cousins.  To  the  edifi- 
cation of ,  I  will  tell  you  how  her  majesty  was  dressed. 

She  was  almost  covered  with  a  large  cashmere  shawl,  and 
wore  a  pale  pink  bonnet.  Her  dress  differed  in  no  respect 
from  that  of  any  ordinary  gentlewoman's,  at  least  to  my  eye. 
Doubtless  on  state  occasions  she  looks  the  queen. 

Their  carriage  was  followed  by  several  gentlemen  on 
horseback,  attended  by  their  grooms,  and  by  two  carriages, 


LETTERS.  357 

in  which  were  "  the  ladies  in  waiting,"  the  Duchess  of  Kent, 
(mother  to  the  queen,)  Lord  John  Russell,  a  middle-aged  man, 
thin  and  pale,  and  his  young  bride,  a  beautiful  creature. 

We  also  saw  the  royal  cavalcade  when  it  returned.  The 
baby  was  held  up  to  the  admiring  gaze  of  the  spectators ; 
the  gentlemen  bowing  to  it,  and  the  ladies  kissing  their 
hands.  The  queen  looked  a  little  more  pleasant,  and  bowed 
more  graciously,  but  without  smiling.  I  had  the  honor  of 
receiving  a  bow  from  her  majesty.  Oh !  but  shan't  I  be 
proud  when  I  get  home,  to  tell  that  I  have  been  bowed  to  by 
the  Pope  and  the  dueen  of  Great  Britain  !  I  hope,  how- 
ever, to  bear  these  honors  with  all  becoming  meekness. 

To  account  for  the  queen's  gravity  at  the  present  time, 
"they  say"  she  is  troubled  at  the  gloomy  aspect  of  affairs; 
or,  in  newspaper  parlance,  that  "  the  royal  mind  is  per- 
plexed." Besides,  too,  she  is  not  well  now,  so  that  may  make 
some  difference.  But  what  a  bore  it  must  be  every  time  she 
rides  out  to  be  obliged  to  meet  a  crowd !  I  declare,  when 
I  think  more  soberly  about  it,  I  don't  wonder  she  looked 
grave. 

We  spent  the  two  hours,  which  elapsed  during  "  the 
drive"  of  her  majesty,  in  looking  about  the  castle.  The 
rooms  at  present  occupied  by  the  royal  family  are  never 
shown  to  visitors.  They  open  upon  the  terrace,  and  com- 
mand fine  views  of  the  park.  In  the  centre  of  the  terrace, 
which  slopes  gently  down,  is  a  flower  garden,  well  laid  out, 
and  ornamented  with  statues  in  bronze  and  marble,  and  two 
vases  of  exquisite  workmanship.  The  terrace  is  quite  a 
favorite  walk  with  her  majesty. 

The  state  apartments  of  the  castle  we  visited,  walking  quite 
leisurely  through  them,  having  sufficient  time  to  examine 
the  fine  paintings.  As  this  castle  is  the  summer  retreat  of 
England's  queen,  perhaps  you  will  be  interested  in  further 
details  concerning  it. 

The  first  room  we  entered  was  the  "  Vandyke  room,"  so 
called  because  all  the  pictures  are  by  that  great  master. 


35S  LETTERS. 

They  are  mostly  portraits  of  the  family  of  Charles  I.  There 
are  five  different  portraits  of  the  beautiful  and  unfortunate 
Henrietta  Maria.  The  walls  of  the  room  are  hung  with 
crimson  damask,  wrought  with  the  insignia  of  the  orders  of 
the  Garter,  St.  Patrick  and  the  Bath,  interspersed  with  the 
rose,  the  shamrock,  and  the  thistle. 

Next  comes  the  Q,ueen's  drawing-room,  the  walls  lined 
with  damask,  embroidered  with  the  arms  of  William  IV.  and 
Adelaide.  The  ceiling  of  this,  and  indeed  of  many  of  the 
rooms,  is  of  stucco,  embellished  with  cornices  of  oak  well 
carved,  and  having  in  the  centre  a  large  panel  surrounded 
by  the  oak,  the  shamrock,  and  the  thistle.  In  this  room  are 
some  exquisite  landscapes  by  Zuccinelli,  a  name  I  never 
heard  before.  They  come  nearer  those  of  Claude  Lorraine 
than  of  any  other  paintings  I  have  seen,  though  they  want 
that  clear,  golden  light  which  Claude  sheds  over  all  his 
scenes. 

Adjoining  this  room  is  one  called  the  "  Queen's  closet," 
probably  a  kind  of  cabinet.  It  is  a  small,  oblong  room,  the 
ceiling  decked  with  festoons  of  fruit  and  flowers.  The 
hangings  are  of  pale  blue  silk,  having  the  letters  A.  R.  over 
a  crown.  The  mirrors  and  the  pictures  here  are  in  frames 
of  silver.  Among  the  pictures  are  two  sweet  scenes  by 
Claude,  a  head  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  two  portraits  by 
Holbein,  and  several  figures  by  Rubens,  Rembrandt,  and 
Teniers. 

Then  came  the  King's  closet,  the  ceiling  ornamented  with 
naval  emblems,  the  anchor  and  trident.  The  hangings 
are  crimson  damask,  and  are  wrought  with  the  rose,  the 
shamrock,  the  thistle,  and  the  letters  W.  R.  Among  the 
paintings  by  "  the  old  masters,"  there  is  an  excellent  Ma- 
donna, and  an  "  Ecce  homo,"  by  my  favorite  Carlo  Dolci, 
and  St.  Catherine  and  St.  Sebastian  by  Guido. 

The  King's  council-room  and  drawing-room  have  some 
fine  pictures.  In  the  drawing-room  is  a  large  oriel  window, 
from  which  there  is  a  lovely  view  of  the  park.     Four  im- 


LETTERS.  359 

mense  mirrors  adorn  the  walls.  We  saw  here  a  chair  made 
from  the  roof  of  Alloway  kirk,  (mentioned  in  Burns'  "Tarn 
O'  Shanter,")  having  on  the  back  a  brass  tablet,  on  which 
that  poem  is  engraved. 

The  throne  room  is  splendid.  Unlike  most  throne  rooms, 
it  is  hung  with  deep  blue  velvet,  (called  here  garter  blue,) 
and  the  throne  is  under  a  canopy  of  the  same  material.  In 
this  room  George  III.  laid  in  state,  for  a  few  days  previous 
to  his  burial. 

Next  we  entered  "  the  Waterloo  chamber."  It  is  lighted 
by  windows  in  thf3  ceiling,  and  the  walls  are  covered  with 
the  portraits  of  sovereigns,  generals,  and  eminent  men,  who 
were  either  engaged  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  or  who  lived 
at  that  time.     Here  William  IV.  laid  in  state. 

Then  comes  the  ball-room,  ninety-six  feet  long.  The 
walls  are  hung  with  six  largn  pieces  of  Gobelin  tapestry. 
There  are  five  chandeliers  in  this  room.  St.  George's  Hall 
is  two  hundred  feet  long.  The  ceiling  is  of  dark  oak  in 
Saxon  arches,  and  has  the  arms  of  all  the  knights  of  the 
garter.  The  walls  are  plentifully  sprinkled  with  shields, 
helmets,  and  spears.  The  south  side  of  the  room  is  almost 
entirely  filled  with  windows,  and  opposite  to  tl:em  are  full- 
length  portraits  of  the  last  eleven  sovereigns  of  England.  At 
either  end  is  a  music  gallery ;  and  under  a  canopy  is  an  oak 
chair  of  the  time  of  Ethelbert,  who  reigned  in  the  ninth 
century. 

Next  comes  the  guard-room.  The  ceiling  and  walls  are 
painted  to  imitate  stars.  Around  the  room  are  pieces  of 
ancient  armor,  and  weapons  of  warfare.  At  the  upper  end 
is  a  part  of  the  foremast  of  the  Victory,  which  was  perforated 
by  a  ball  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar ;  and  on  top  of  the 
mast  is  a  colossal  bust  of  Nelson,  and  on  either  side  a  beauti- 
ful piece  of  ordnance,  inlaid  with  silver  and  gold,  taken  from 
Tippoo  Saib  at  the  battle  of  Seringapatam. 

Then  we  came  to  the  grand  staircase,  and  ''  grand  "  it  is, 
lighted  from  the  top,  and  having  balustrades  of  stone,  well 
sculptured. 


360  LETTERS. 

In  all  these  rooms  the  furniture  was  covered,  but  I  satis- 
fied my  woman's  curiosity  by  peeping  under  the  covers. 
The  chairs  and  settees  were  in  all  instances  of  the  same 
materials  as  the  hangings  of  the  rooms. 

The  newspapers  and  guide-books  say  the  castle  is  open  to 
the  public  every  Saturday  and  Sunday  ;  and  so  we  went 
through  all  the  rooms  without  thinking  about  the  pay,  but 
as  we  came  down  the  stairs,  lo !  we  were  met  by  a  female 
guard,  who  politely  demanded  a  shilling  from  each  one.  So 
"  open  to  the  public,"  in  the  English  dictionary,  means  "  pay 
one  shilling." 

We  then  went  to  "  the  round  tower,"  a  large  circular 
tower  on  a  high  mound,  and  inhabited  by  the  governor  of 
the  castle.  We  mounted  by  about  two  hundred  steps  to  the 
top,  where  we  had  a  grand  view  of  the  park  and  the  country 
around.  We  could  trace  for  miles  the  windings  of  the 
Thames,  and  had  a  near  view  of  the  old  Gothic  college  of 
Eton,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  From  this  elevated 
spot  twelve  different  counties  may  be  seen,  and  even  the 
dome  of  St.  Paul's  in  London,  twenty-one  miles  distant.  This 
tower  is  also  "  open  to  the  public,"  and  on  the  same  con- 
ditions as  the  castle. 

You  may  well  suppose  that  after  this  day's  work,  we  are 
some  tired  ;  and  I  think  I  may  be  excused  from,  writing  any 
more,  though  I  have  not  encroached  so  largely  on  that  stock 
of  patience  as  I  threatened  to.  However,  do  not  flatter 
yourself  that  I  have  got  through  ;  for,  as  I  cannot  send  this 
letter  before  Monday,  I  shall  leave  it  open  till  I  am  able  to 
give  you  an  account  of  our  Sunday  at  Windsor. 


Sunday  evening. 
This  morning   we  went   to  St.  George's  Chapel,   a  fine 
Gothic  edifice   connected  with  Windsor  Castle.     We  were 
not  allowed  to  enter  till  a  few  minutes  before  service  com- 
menced.    As  soon  as  the  door  was  opened,  there  was  such 


LETTERS.  361 

a  rush  for  seats,  that  we  were  hurried  through  the  nave  into 
the  choir,  without  having  an  opportunity  even  to  glance 
around.  In  the  choir  where  service  was  performed,  the  seats 
are  of  dark  oak,  having  Gothic  pinnacles  beautifully  carved. 
Over  them  hang  the  banners  of  the  knights  of  St.  George. 
The  organ  is  finished  off  in  the  same  style  as  the  stalls.  The 
service  was  chanted,  the  psalms  for  the  day,  the  creed  and  the 
liturgy ;  and  the  prayer  and  the  lessons  were  read  in  such  a 
tone,  that  one  might  almost  say  they  were  chanted  too. 

The  Queen  and  Prince  Albert  were  there ;  but  so  con- 
cealed in  their  little  box  in  the  gallery,  that  we  caught  but 
few  glimpses  of  them.  I  do  not  know  who  was  the  preacher, 
but  his  sermon  was  truly  excellent  and  practical. 

After  the  sermon  a  long  anthem  was  sung,  in  which  a  boy 
having  a  sweet,  rich  voice  bore  the  most  prominent  part. 
The  queen  and  the  prince  entered  into  it  with  great  zest ; 
keeping  time  with  their  heads,  and  singing  with  much 
spirit. 

After  service  was  over,  we  saw  the  queen  and  her  royal 
consort  ride  from  the  chapel ;  though  but  a  stone's  throw  to 
their  apartments,  they  rarely  walk.  We  went  back  to  the 
church  to  view  the  monuments,  but  we  could  not  gain  ad- 
mission. 

After  dinner  we  took  a  stroll  in  the  beautiful  park.  This 
is  one  of  the  grandest  parks  in  the  world.  One  might  well 
walk  in  it  all  day  without  tiring,  so  great  is  the  variety  of 
upland  and  lowland,  of  shaded  dells  and  sunny  glades,  of  fine 
old  trees  and  velvet  lawns.  We  sauntered  slowly  down  *'  the 
long  walk,"  looking  in  vain  for  the  little  lake  "  of  Virginia 
water  ;  "  but,  although  we  walked  two  or  three  miles,  we 
saw  nothing  of  it,  so  we  turned  our  faces  homeward.  Now 
while  I  write  the  castle  bell  is  ringing  the  hour  of  nine,  and 
cheerily  and  richly  sound  the  merry  chimes. 

While  the  queen  resides  here,  Windsor  is  a  great  place 
of  resort,  particularly  on  Sundays.  To-day  no  less  than  two 
31 


362  LETTERS. 

thousand  persons  came  on  the  rail-road,  —  to  say  nothing  of 
the  numbers  by  other  conveyances. 

We  now  bid  farewell  to  royalty's  abode,  and  to  royalty 
itself;  expecting  to  see  nothing  more  of  the  state  that  attends 
sovereigns,  for  in  our  own  land,  whither  w^e  are  hastening, 
one  is  as  much  a  sovereign  as  another.  Were  this  a  fitting 
time  and  place,  I  might  enter  into  a  long  disquisition  on  the 
merits  and  demerits  of  a  monarchy  as  opposed  to  a  republic  ; 
but  it  is  neither  becoming  the  day  nor  the  individual ;  for 
you  would  hardly  expect  one  of  the  weaker  sex  to  say  any 
thing  on  such  a  subject  that  would  prove  edifying,  so  I  bid 
you  good  night. 


London,  Monday  evening. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

We  are  once  more  in  our  old  room  here,  and  it  really 
seems  quite  natural,  and  to  date  my  letter  from  London  too. 
After  all,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  given  you  but  poor  and 
weak  descriptions  of  this  great  city  ;  yet  I  can  but  hope  that 
the  budget  of  letters  sent  from  this  place,  may  prove  interest- 
ing to  you.  And  now  I  have  but  little  more  to  say  before 
we  leave  London  again,  and  this  time  perhaps  forever.  I 
spent  all  this  morning,  after  we  got  back  from  Windsor,  in 
packing  our  trunks  to  send  to  Liverpool,  that  we  may  not  be 
troubled  with  them  in  our  excursions  through  this  kingdom. 
We  start  to-morrow  on  an  eight  weeks'  tour,  with  only  a 
carpet  bag  and  small  valise.  I  flatter  myself  but  few  ladies 
can  travel  with  as  little  baggage  as  I  can.  No  one,  in  coach 
or  rail  carriages,  is  allowed  but  so  many  pounds  of  baggage, 
and  for  all  over  the  allotted  quantity  he  is  charged  an  extra 
price ;  so  you  see  one  saves  expense  as  well  as  trouble  in 
going  with  as  few  encumbrances  as  possible. 


LETTERS.  363 

At  four  o'clock  we  walked  to  Hyde  Park.  We  had  pur- 
posely left  this  for  the  last  thing  to  be  seen,  hoping  that  the 
queen  might  return  to  town  ;  and  that  thus,  in  this  fashion- 
able place  of  promenade,  we  might  see  some  of  the  great 
characters,  at  present  figuring  on  the  stage  of  English  affairs. 
But  there  is  now  no  probability  of  her  majesty  comhig  to 
open  parliament,  and  we  can  no  longer  delay  our  departure 
from  this  city. 

No  hackney  coach  is  allowed  to  go  within  the  enclosure 
of  Hyde  Park  ;  no  carriages  but  those  belonging  to  the 
nobility  and  the  rich  people  are  there  seen,  so  of  course,  in 
the  fashionable  season,  and  at  the  usual  hours  of  driving  out, 
it  is  thronged  with  the  "  titled  great."  I  was  disappointed 
in  the  park  ;  it  is  smaller  than  Regent's,  and  I  think  inferior 
to  it.  Serpentine  river,  running  through  it,  however,  gives 
variety  to  the  scene.  In  one  respect  it  is  superior  to  Regent's 
Park,  for  it  has  a  handsome  iron  railing  around  it. 

At  "  Hyde  Park  Corner,"  is  a  beautiful  gate  in  the  style 
of  a  triumphal  arch  ;  and  opposite  to  this,  we  pass  under 
another  arch,  through  Queen's  Park,  to  St.  James'  Palace 
and  Park.  This  park  is  very  pretty,  and  has  in  the  centre 
a  little  lake,  in  which  there  is  a  small  island.  The  palace 
is  large,  fronting  three  sides  of  a  quadrangle.  Around  the 
building  is  a  noble  colonnade.  In  front  is  an  arch,  modelled 
after  the  arch  of  Constantine  in  Rome. 

The  streets  of  London  are  lit  with  gas,  and  are  therefore 
pleasant  to  walk  in  during  any  time  of  evening  or  night. 
We  have  often  seen  respectable  looking  females  walking 
alone  at  late  hours ;  and  so  excellent  are  the  police  arrange- 
ments, that  I  should  not  be  afraid  to  walk  out  by  myself  any 
time  during  the  evening. 

This  morning  we  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  our  friend 
and  former  fellow-traveller,  Mr.  T.  He  is  on  his  way  home. 
And  thus  has  ended  our  last  day  in  London.  We  have 
enjoyed  exceedingly  our  visit  here  ;  and  among  all  our  recol- 
lections of  the  past,  numerous  and  varied  as  they  are,  few 


LETTERS. 


will  be  more  pleasant  than  those  connected  with  our  two 
weeks'  sojourn  in  this  vast  metropolis.  And  so  I  bid  you 
good  bye. 


Cheltenham,  Thursday  evening. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

We  go  so  rapidly  from  place  to  place,  that  I  shall  now  not 
be  able  to  write  to  you  oftener  than  twice  a  week,  so  you 
may  expect  long  letters  each  time.  In  fact,  I  begin  to  think 
that  I  have  no  faculty  to  condense  my  descriptions,  so  as  to 
bring  them  within  a  small  compass.  However,  if  the  letters 
do  but  please  and  amuse  you,  it  matters  not  to  me,  whether 
they  are  long  or  short.  And  now  to  review  the  past.  We 
came  to  Bristol  Tuesday  by  ''  the  Great  Western  rail-road," 
which  has  only  been  completed  about  six  weeks.  We  have 
heard  so  much  in  our  own  country  about  the  superiority  of 
the  English  roads  to  ours,  that  I  have  been  led  to  take  par- 
ticular notice  of  them.  On  the  road  from  London  to  Bristol, 
there  are  two  tracks,  each  seven  feet  wide ;  and  either  from 
nature  or  design  the  road  is  not  so  varying  as  those  at  home, 
that  is,  now  on  high  banks,  and  now  in  deep  valleys.  I  saw 
but  one  or  two  places  where  we  were  much  above  the  level 
of  the  country. 

The  master-piece  of  workmanship  on  this  road  is  a  tunnel 
two  miles  long,  cut  through  a  high  hill.  Within  the  deepest 
recesses,  it  is  as  dark  as  the  blackest  midnight ;  and  the 
noise  produced  by  the  rumbling  of  the  cars  and  the  engine 
is  quite  fearful.  We  were  obliged  to  stop  ten  minutes  before 
entering  it,  as  a  train  had  just  passed  through  ;  and  the  rule 
is  to  wait  that  length  of  time,  for  fear  of  accidents.  There 
are  several  other  tunnels,  but  none  except  this  exceeding  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  in  length.  Some  are  cut  through  the  solid 
rock. 


LETTERS.  365 

At  all  the  "stations"  there  are  good,  substantial  stone 
houses,  but  no  one  is  allowed  to  get  out  at  any  one  of  them, 
unless  it  be  his  own  stopping  place,  and  no  one  can  enter, 
till  those  who  are  to  stop  have  previously  got  out.  When 
about  half  way,  "  the  rail  "  stopped  ten  minutes,  and  we  were 
allowed  to  get  out  for  refreshments ;  but  each  one  had  a 
little  ticket  given  him,  which  he  was  obliged  to  show  at  the 
door,  and  to  give  up  as  he  came  back.  Now  you  see  every 
thing  is  conducted  in  the  most  orderly  and  quiet  manner  ; 
but  this  would  not  suit  you  in  the  United  States.  Your 
republican  spirit  would  not  submit  to  be  trammelled  by  so 
many  rules  and  regulations.  Of  course  so  many  rules 
require  a  good  many  men  to  enforce  them ;  hence  the  ex- 
penses of  these  roads  are  greater  than  ours  at  home,  and  of 
course  the  fare  is  much  higher.  And  now  for  the  speed. 
We  were  four  hours  and  three  quarters  in  going  one  hundred 
and  twenty  miles  ;  but  we  stopped  at  least  twenty  times,  so 
that  we  went  about  thirty  miles  an  hour.  Of  course  at  this 
rate  of  travelling,  you  cannot  expect  me  to  say  much  about 
the  country  through  which  we  passed,  or  rather  flew  like 
birds  of  passage.  We  occasionally  caught  glimpses  of  pretty 
villages,  and  scenes  of  rural  beauty  ;  but  before  we  could 
well  realize  in  what  their  beauty  consisted,  we  were  far  from 
them.  We  saw  Reading,  a  good  looking  town,  having  some 
romantic  ruins  near  by. 

At  Bristol  we  staid  two  nights.  It  is  not  a  very  interest- 
ing city,  though  quite  a  busy  one.  The  streets  were  almost 
impassable  from  the  mud,  and  two  or  three  times  we  saw- 
men  actually  hoeing  it  from  the  sidewalks. 

Bristol  lies  on  the  Avon,  ten  miles  from  the  Severn.  A 
number  of  vessels  were  on  the  river,  and  the  wharves  bore 
the  appearance  of  bustle  and  activity.  Many  of  the  streets 
are  narrow,  and  the  houses  irregular,  and  but  few  of  them 
handsome. 

On  College  Green  stands  the  old  cathedral,  a  fine  speci- 
men of  Gothic  style  ;  and  near  it  are  the  ruins  of  the  arch- 
31* 


366  LETTERS. 

bishop's  palace,  torn  down  by  a  mob  in  1830,  I  think. 
There  are  some  other  quaint  looking  churches,  and  some 
handsome  modern  ones.  Many  shops  are  nice  looking,  and 
their  windows  manifest  a  good  deal  of  taste  in  the  way  of 
displaying  goods  to  the  best  advantage. 

I  should  say  the  handsomest  edifice  in  all  Bristol  is  the 
"station"  house.  It  is  really  magnificent,  being  built  of 
light  stone  in  the  castellated  Gothic  style.  Wednesday 
morning  we  went  to  Bath.  Though  but  eighteen  miles  from 
Bristol,  we  passed  through  seven  or  eight  tunnels,  some  a 
half  mile  long.  The  country  between  Bath  and  Bristol  is 
hilly,  and  abounds  with  landscapes  of  much  beauty.  We 
passed  by  several  villages,  in  which  were  large  manufac- 
tories, at  least  so  we  judged  from  the  thick  clouds  of 
smoke  that  rose  from  the  chimnies  and  darkened  the  air. 

Bath  is  a  large  city,  and  a  very  pretty  one  too.  Some  of 
the  streets  to  be  sure  are  narrow  and  dirty,  and  have  com- 
mon looking  houses ;  but  others  are  wide  and  clean,  and 
have  rows  of  handsome  houses  of  light  colored  stone.  There 
are  several  squares  and  parks  which  greatly  add  to  the  beauty 
of  the  place.  We  visited  the  old  cathedral ;  but  I  have  de- 
scribed so  many  churches,  that  1  shall  say  nothing  of  this, 
nor  of  the  handsome  modern  churches  with  which  Bath  is 
adorned. 

We  passed  by  a  hospital,  supported  by  voluntary  contribu- 
tions, and  designed  to  accommodate  the  poor,  whose  com- 
plaints require  the  healing  of  the  waters.  The  ''pump- 
room,"  where  people  go  to  drink  the  water,  is  in  a  large 
building  of  dark  stone,  having  a  handsome  portico  and 
colonnade  in  front.  The  room  is  large,  and  is  tastefully 
fitted  up,  having  several  pieces  of  sculpture ;  among  which 
is  the  statue  of  Beau  Nash,  once  the  master  of  ceremonies 
at  Bath.  At  either  end  of  the  room,  there  is  a  music  gallery, 
where  a  band  performs  every  day  during  the  fashionable 
season.  The  water  is  pumped  up  into  a  large  marble  vase, 
and  dealt  out  by  a  gentlemanly  attendant  for  a  few  pennies  a 


LETTERS.  367 

glass.  We  drank  some  of  it ;  it  is  of  a  greenish  Ime,  quite 
warm,  and  to  the  taste  seems  but  slightly  impregnated  with 
mineral  properties. 

Back  of  the  "  pump-room  "  is  a  large  reservoir,  filled  with 
the  water  to  the  depth  of  four  and  a  half  feet.  It  is  regularly 
cleared  out  three  times  a  week.  Around  this  reservoir  are 
small  basins  for  public  bathing,  and  little  rooms  for  private 
use.  Every  thing  about  the  establishment  is  in  the  nicest 
order.  Adjoining  each  bath  is  a  room,  in  which  are  a  sofa- 
bed,  chairs,  and  table.  We  took  a  bath,  and  pronounced  it 
quite  a  luxury.  The  temperature  of  the  water  is  about  115.° 
While  I  was  trying  the  bath,  I  gave  my  shoes,  stockings,  and 
dress  into  the  hands  of  an  old  woman,  who  had  the  care  of 
the  apartments  appropriated  for  ladies'  use,  and  she  succeeded 
in  ridding  them  of  the  thick  coat  of  mud  in  which  they  were 
enveloped. 

After  we  returned  to  our  hotel  in  Bristol,  we  ordered  din- 
ner at  eight  o'clock,  and  then  started  for  Clifton,  two  miles 
distant.  We  expected  to  meet  a  "  bus,"  and  so  get  a  chance 
to  ride ;  but  none  coming  along,  we  walked  the  whole  dis- 
tance. We  followed  the  course  of  the  Avon  till  the  banks 
grew  higher  and  higher,  and  the  view  of  the  country  around 
was  entirely  impeded.  So  then  we  mounted  a  steep  hill,  and 
found  ourselves  in  the  very  centre  of  the  town. 

The  Avon  is  a  little  dirty  looking  river,  at  least  so  it 
seemed  to  us  then,  perhaps  on  account  of  the  tide  being 
low.  High  banks  enclose  it,  which  serve  to  give  it,  what 
novel-readers  call  a  romantic  appearance.  On  one  side  they 
are  wooded,  and  on  the  other  bare  and  rocky.  A  magnificent 
suspension  bridge  is  being  built  over  the  river. 

Clifton  is  a  pretty  little  town,  the  houses  are  so  regular 
and  handsome.  They  stand  back  from  the  river,  so  that  the 
view  of  the  water  is  entirely  hidden  from  those  in  the  streets. 
We  saw  little  carriages  here,  and  at  Bath  too,  like  those  in 
Brighton.  Clifton  is  another  fashionable  watering-place,  on 
account  of  its  hot  springs,  called  here  "  hot  wells."     We 


368  LETTERS. 

did  not  go  into  the  pump-room.  Finding  that  we  had  plenty 
of  time  before  dinner,  we  sauntered  slowly  back.  There 
have  been  some  fine  specimens  of  petrifactions  found  in  this 
neighborhood,  and  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  we  passed 
by  several  stands,  on  which  many  of  them  were  exhibited 
for  sale. 

This  morning  we  went  quite  early  to  the  station  to  go  to 
Wrington,  near  Barley  Wood,  the  former  residence  of  Han- 
nah More.  The  ticket  office  was  not  opened  till  a  few 
minutes  before  the  time  of  starting  ;  and  when  we  applied 
for  our  tickets,  we  found  that  we  had  come  to  the  wrong 
station.  We  hurried  off  as  fast  as  possible  to  the  right  one  ; 
but  arrived  just  in  season  to  hear  the  admonitory  whistle, 
and  to  see  the  train  moving  off.  As  the  next  "  rail "  did  not 
go  till  eleven,  we  were  forced  to  give  up  our  projected  ex- 
cursion thither  ;  so  slowly  and  sadly  we  returned  to  our 
hotel,  and  thinking  we  had  seen  quite  enough  of  Bristol,  we 
packed  up  our  few  things,  and  started  off  in  the  coach  for 
Gloucester. 

Just  as  we  left  the  city  the  bells  of  the  churches  struck 
up  a  merry  peal,  chiming  a  real  tune,  and  a  very  rich  one 
too.  Two  or  three  times  they  were  struck  in  quick  succes- 
sion to  imitate  the  firing  of  cannon.  We  inquired  and 
found  the  cause  of  the  rejoicing  was,  that  it  was  Prince 
Albert's  birthday. 

The  ride  to  Gloucester  was  delightful,  the  country  beau- 
tiful, and  the  air  delicious.  To  get  from  the  smoke  and  fog 
of  Bristol,  and  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  of  a  clear,  sunny  day 
was  exhilarating.  To  be  mounted  on  a  coach,  going  rapid- 
ly, it  is  true,  but  still  slowly  enough  to  enable  one  to  see  the 
country,  was  quite  a  pleasant  contrast  to  being  shut  up  in  a 
car,  and  skimming  over  the  road  like  a  bird. 

How  smiling  all  nature  was  to-day !  The  meadows  were 
of  a  luxuriant  green,  or  a  rich  yellow.  We  see  no  Indian 
corn  here,  which  at  first  seemed  strange  to  us,  so  much  of 
it  do  we  have  in  our  own  land.     Wheat  is  called  corn  here : 


LETTERS.  369 

two  or  three  times,  when  riding,  I  have  suddenly  turned  my 
head  at  hearing  some  of  the  passengers  talk  of  a  large  field 
of  corn,  thinking  that  I  was  indeed  going  to  see  corn ;  but 
I  have  now  become  accustomed  to  the  term,  and  so  think 
nothing  of  it. 

In  our  ride  we  caught  glimpses  of  the  Severn,  as  it  rolled 
its  waters  along  within  a  few  miles  of  us.  About  ten  miles 
from  Bristol  we  passed  a  man  who  was  walking  for  a  wager. 
He  was  clothed  in  light  colored  buckskin,  and  was  walking 
backwards  when  we  saw  him.  His  face  was  much  flushed, 
and  his  whole  appearance  showed  that  he  was  exerting  him- 
self to  the  utmost.  He  had  engaged  to  walk  fifty  miles 
a  day  for  six  days  in  succession,  twenty-five  miles  for- 
ward and  twenty-five  backward,  and  for  this  praiseworthy 
achievement  he  is  to  have  fifty  pounds.  This  is  the  fourth 
day  of  his  trial.  He  accomplished  one  mile  in  eleven 
minutes  when  walking  forward,  and  one  in  seventeen  when 
backward.  It  seems  to  me,  notwithstanding  the  proverbial 
gravity  and  sobriety  of  the  English,  compared  with  the  vi- 
vacity and  pleasure-seeking  disposition  of  the  French,  that, 
after  all,  they  are  as  eager  for  amusements  and  novelties  as 
their  neighbors  across  the  channel.  In  every  town  through 
which  we  have  passed,  there  either  have  been,  or  are  soon 
to  be,  horse  races  or  boat  races,  or  cricket  matches,  or  ball 
playing,  or  something  or  other,  it  does  not  seem  to  matter 
what. 

At  Gloucester  we  stopped  two  hours,  and  spent  the  most 
of  that  time  in  visiting  the  cathedral.  It  is  a  majestic  pile, 
partaking  largely  both  of  the  old  Saxon  and  Gothic  styles. 
The  tower  is  beautiful ;  little  turrets  of  delicate  fretwork  ris- 
ing up  at  each  corner,  seeming  far  too  fragile  for  such  an  ele- 
vation. The  nave  is  in  the  Saxon  style,  with  round  arches  and 
immense  pillars;  the  ceiling  is  vaulted  though  plain,  but  the 
choir  is  perfectly  Gothic.  It  has  a  splendid  window,  the 
highest,  if  not  the  largest  in  England.  Behind  the  choir  is 
a  beautiful  chapel,  erected  by  Henry  VII.  The  ceiling  is 
exquisitely  done.     At  the  upper  end  of  the  chapel  is  a  large 


370  LETTEES. 

Gothic  window,  beneath  which  was  formerly  an  altar.  It  was 
pulled  down  and  the  walls  defaced  in  the  time  of  Crom- 
well, and  the  marks  of  the  ravages  are  yet  visible. 

The  cathedral  is  rich  in  monuments  and  inscriptions. 
The  first  that  I  noticed  was  a  monument  of  one  of  the  Cun- 
ningham family  (I  think  it  was).  Under  the  coat  of  arms 
was  written,  "  over,  fork  over."  I  eagerly  asked  what  that 
meant.  Our  guide  around  the  church,  an  intelligent  and 
modest  old  man,  soon  explained  it  to  us.  When  Charles  the 
Pretender  was  pursued  in  Scotland,  he  at  one  time  fled 
to  a  meadow  where  he  was  concealed  in  a  load  of  hay  by 
this  very  man,  who  from  that  time  took  for  his  motto, 
*'  over,  fork  over." 

There  is  a  beautiful  monument  in  the  Gothic  style  erect- 
ed to  the  memory  of  Richard  Raikes,  brother  to  Robert, 
who  by  the  way  was  a  native  of  this  town,  as  was  also  the 
celebrated  Whitefield.  Here  too  is  the  tomb  of  Robert  of 
Normandy,  son  of  William  the  Conqueror.  As  he  was  a 
crusader,  his  statue  on  top  of  his  tomb  represents  him  with 
his  legs  crossed,  which,  with  his  singular  dress,  makes  a 
queer  looking  figure. 

We  saw  too  the  tomb  of  a  man  who  had  had  twenty-one 
children,  and  of  another  who  was  father  to  nine  sons  and  six 
daughters.  In  front,  the  father  is  painted,  with  his  children 
kneeling  around  him,  his  sons  arranged  in  dutiful  order  on 
one  side,  and  his  daughters  on  the  other,  the  last  in  the 
oddest  looking  costume  imaginable.  On  top  were  the  ap- 
propriate words,  "  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity."  Poor 
man !  he  had  a  house  full  of  vanities,  and  not  all  female 
vanities  either  ! 

There  is  also  a  monument  in  honor  of (I  have  forgot- 
ten the  name)  of  Massachusetts,  an  American  consul  who 
died  here. 

Workmen  were  engaged  in  fixing  up  staging  around  the 
church,  preparatory  to  the  great  musical  festival  which  takes 
place  here  once  in  three  years.  This  prevented  us  from 
seeing  the  church  to  good  advantage. 


LETTERS.  371 

However  good  a  taste  it  is  in  religion  to  convert  a  Romish 
into  a  Protestant  church,  it  is  a  poor  one  in  architecture, 
for  the  impressive  effect  is  totally  lost  by  a  high  screen  beino- 
between  the  nave  and  choir.  It  is  thus  deprived  of  its  perfect 
proportions,  so  that  it  seems  much  shorter  than  it  really  is. 

Adjoining  the  church  are  extensive  cloisters,  running 
around  a  quadrangle,  into  which  they  open  by  small  Gothic 
windows  in  beautiful  little  arches. 

We  passed  by  two  ancient  looking  churches,  one  had  a 
high  tower  which  leaned  a  little,  whether  from  design  or  old 
age  we  know  not. 

We  left  Gloucester  at  seven,  and  came  here  by  "  rail." 
The  country  was  fine,  and  the  sunset  beautiful,  presenting  a 
scene  almost  as  beauteous  as  any  in  Italy's  fair  clime. 

We  are  at  ''  The  Plough."  The  streets  through  which 
we  walked  this  evening  were  well  lit,  and  the  shops  pre- 
sented a  very  handsome  appearance.  In  my  novel  reading 
days  I  heard  much  of  this  fashionable  watering-place,  though 
I  then  hardly  imagined  I  should  ever  visit  it,  but  strange 
things  come  to  pass  now-a-days. 

Friday  morning. 

I  open  this,  while  waiting  for  breakfast,  to  finish  my  ac- 
count of  this  city.  We  rose  quite  early  this  morning,  and 
walked  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  delighted  with  all  we  saw. 
This  is  a  beautiful  town.  The  houses  are  regular  and  hand- 
some, not  abounding  in  architectural  ornaments,  but  plain, 
neat  and  chaste.  Most  of  them  stand  a  little  back  from  the 
street,  having  small  gardens  in  front.  Nearly  all  have  little 
verandahs  or  balconies,  and  some  have  quite  pretty  porti- 
coes. There  are  some  beautiful  public  gardens  too,  and 
streets  lined  with  trees,  forming  fashionable  promenades. 
In  short,  the  whole  town  is  beautiful.  I  never  saw  one  that 
would  equal  it,  either  on  the  continent  or  in  our  own 
country. 

But  it  is  time  for  me  to  be  moving,  so  in  haste  I  leave 
you. 


372  LETTERS. 


BiRMiN'GHAM,  Saturday  evening. 

My  DEAR  Friend  : 

Once  more  I  have  a  little  time,  which  I  gladly  devote  to 
you,  so  I  hasten  to  tell  you  about  the  things  which  we  have 
seen.  After  closing  my  letter  yesterday  morning,  we  started 
off  by  coach  for  Stratford.  The  country  was  charming,  but 
so  much  like  what  I  have  previously  described,  that  it  is  un- 
necessary for  me  to  enter  into  particulars.  The  environs 
of  Cheltenham  were  beautiful ;  houses  surrounded  by  gar- 
dens and  parks  lined  the  road.  I  think  the  houses  of  the 
higher  class  of  people  in  England  excel  in  beauty  and  finish 
those  of  the  same  class  with  us,  or  even  on  the  continent, 
and  the  grounds  around  them  are  perfect.  But  the  houses 
of  the  middle  and  lower  classes  in  our  country  are  far  su- 
perior to  those  of  the  same  classes  here.  I  see  nowhere  such 
neat,  thrifty  and  pretty  farm-houses  as  I  do  at  home.  In  the 
most  of  the  villages  through  which  we  have  passed,  the 
houses  have  been  the  most  ordinary  looking  affairs,  gener- 
ally of  brick  or  stone,  and  without  any  external  beauty  or 
perfections ;  of  course  I  can't  tell  how  they  look  inside. 

As  I  just  now  said,  I  can  say  nothing  more  about  the 
country  from  Cheltenham  to  Stratford,  than  that  it  was 
charming  in  the  highest  degree.  Husbandmen  were  busy 
in  the  fields,  and  the  gleaners  were  not  idle,  but  were 
gathering  up  the  fragments,  that  nothing  should  be  wasted. 

We  passed  through  Evesham,  a  small  town,  near  which  a 
famous  battle  was  fought  in  1265,  between  Prince  Edward 
I.  and  the  Earl  of  Leicester.  We  also  passed  through 
several  villages,  and  through  toll-gates  innumerable.  I  can- 
not speak  too  highly  of  the  roads  in  England.  I  feel  per- 
fectly safe  on  top  of  a  coach,  for  we  never  meet  with  those 
jolts  and  jars  to  throw  us  off  our  seats  as  at  home.  And 
nothing  can  exceed  the  carefulness  of  the  coachmen ;  they 
put  the  drag  on  every  time  they  go  down  a  little  hill,  and 


LETTERS.  373 

never  leave  their  horses  without  asking  some  one  on  top  to 
"  please  to  take  the  ribands." 

Stratford  is  a  small  town  on  the  river  Avon.  It  cannot 
boast  of  much  beauty,  but  all  its  interest  is  derived  from 
having  been  the  birthplace  of  Shakespeare.  We  went  im- 
mediately to  see  the  house  where  he  was  born.  It  is  in  one 
of  the  principal  streets,  and  is  a  homely,  plain,  old-fashioned 
house.  A  sign  over  the  door  informs  the  passer-by  that 
"  the  immortal  Shakespeare  was  born  in  this  house."  We 
entered  with  no  common  feelings,  and  as  we  went  up  the 
dark,  narrow  staircase,  so  still  was  every  thing,  it  seemed 
that  we  were  going  to  a  funeral.  The  room  where  the  bard 
was  born,  is  in  the  second  story,  and  is  low  and  plain.  In 
the  room  were  some  high-backed  chairs,  and  an  old  cabinet, 
though  the  woman  who  did  the  honors  of  the  house  candidly 
said  that  they  could  not  be  identified  with  the  time  of 
Shakespeare.  Around  the  walls  hung  several  old  portraits 
of  his  family,  and  a  good  likeness  of  the  poet  himself  The 
walls,  window-seats,  every  part  of  the  room,  even  to  the 
rafters,  were  covered  with  the  names  of  those  who  had  at 
diiferent  times  visited  the  spot,  among  which  we  saw  quite 
as  many  Americans  as  Englishmen.  Of  course,  Jonathan- 
like, we  added  our  own.  Some  person  wrote  on  a  piece  of 
paper  and  left  it  here  :  — 

"  Stranger,  tread  not  these  hallowed  rooms  with  scorn, 
Within  this  room  great  Shakespeare  was  born  ; 
With  reverence  due  bow  to  his  sacred  worth, 
Great  nature  wrought  a  wonder  when  she  gave  him  birth." 

Underneath  which  was  written  in  another  hand, 

"  Poor  fool !  we  could  not  contemplate  with  scorn, 
A  worm  that  crawls  where  Avon's  bard  was  born  ; 
In  Stratford,  (even  in  these  degenerate  times,) 
All  is  respectable  —  except  thy  rhymes." 

Among  the  Americans  whose  names  have  been  recorded 
in  a  book  kept  in  the  house,  are  Washington  Irving,  N.  P. 
32 


374  LETTERS. 

Willis,   Daniel  Webster,  and  two  sons  of  President  Van 
Buren.     Irving  wrote, 

"  Of  mighty  Shakespeare's  birth  the  room  we  see, 
That  where  he  died,  in  vain  to  find  we  try  ; 
Useless  the  search,  for  all  immortal  he, 
And  those  who  are  immortal,  never  die." 

I  could  not  but  think  as  1  sat  in  that  humble  room,  and  as 
I  walked  the  streets  of  Stratford,  how  little  Shakespeare  im- 
agined that  the  time  would  ever  come  when  travellers  from 
a  far  distant  land  should  visit  the  place  where  he  was  born, 
and  regard  it  as  one  of  the  greatest  objects  of  interest  in 
England. 

We  then  went  to  the  church  where  the  poet  lies  buried. 
It  is  approached  from  the  road  by  an  avenue  of  lime  trees, 
the  branches  meeting  overhead  and  forming  a  beautiful 
arbor.  Shakespeare's  monument  consists  of  a  white  marble 
slab,  placed  against  the  wall,  and  surmounted  by  his  bust. 
The  inscription  reads  thus  :  — 

"  Stay,  passenger  !  why  goest  thou  by  so  fast  ? 
Read,  if  thou  canst,  whome  envious  death  hath  plast. 
Within  this  monument,  Shakespeare  with  whome 
Q,uick  nature  dide,  whose  name  doth  deck  y  tomb 
Far  more  than  cost ;  Sith  all  y  hath  writt, 
Leaves  living  art  but  page  to  serve  his  witt. 

Obiit  Akno  DomisIj  1616.     ^Etatus  53." 

On  the  floor  beneath  this  monument,  is  a  small  slab  of 
marble  bearing  the  inscription,  "  Here  lies  interred  the 
body  of  Anne  Hathaway,  wife  of  William  Shakespeare,  who 
departed  this  life  the  6th  of  August,  1625,  being  the  age  of 
67  years."  Then  follows  a  string  of  Latin  words,  which  I  had 
neither  time  nor  patience  nor  ability  to  translate.  By  her 
side  repose  a  son  and  daughter. 

Surely  here  rest  those  whose  names  are  to  memory  dear. 
Back  of  the  church  flows  the  Avon,  here  a  pretty  stream. 
From  the  opposite  bank  stretch  fields,  where  the  cattle  and 
the  sheep  browsed  quietly  on  the  green  herbage.     All  was 


LETTERS.  375 

quiet  and  lovely,  and  most  fitting  is  it  that  Avon's  waters 
should  flow  by  the  spot  where  Avon's  bard  reposes. 

Just  back  of  the  inn  where  we  stopped,  was  a  bowling 
green,  the  site  of  the  house  where  Shakespeare  lived  after 
his  return  from  London.  It  was  called  '*  Hill  Place," 
and  was  afterwards  bought  by  a  clergyman,  who  took  the 
liberty  of  pulling  down  the  house,  which  so  exasperated  the 
Stratfordites,  that  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  town.  In  the 
centre  of  the  green  was  a  large  mulberry  tree,  in  its  infancy 
a  shoot  from  one  planted  by  the  dramatist's  own  hand. 

From  Stratford  we  went  to  Leamington,  a  distance  often 
miles.  We  enjoyed  the  ride  very  much,  going  as  we  did 
at  that  pleasant  time  when  the  sun  was  sinking  to  rest.  We 
improved  the  twilight  hour  in  looking  about  the  little  town. 
It  is  on  the  Leam,  a  small  but  pretty  stream,  fringed  with 
overhanging  trees  and  shrubs.  Bath  street  is  the  finest 
street  in  the  town  ;  indeed  I  know  of  no  street  in  the  cities 
we  have  visited,  which  in  the  chasteness  and  elegance  of  the 
houses  will  compare  with  it.  The  "  Pump  room  "  is  really 
beautiful,  being  adorned  with  a  handsome  portico,  and 
Regent's  Hotel  is  a  magnificent  building,  so  neat  and  so 
perfect  in  its  proportions.  As  at  Cheltenham,  there  were 
numbers  of  pretty  little  gardens. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  records  of  this  day,  one  of  the 
busiest  of  the  many  busy  ones  we  have  lately  known. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  we  took  the  coach  for  Kenil- 
worth.  Though  eight  o'clock,  one  would  have  judged  from 
the  appearance  of  things  that  it  was  much  earlier,  for  the 
shops  were  closed,  and  the  curtains  of  the  houses  still 
drawn,  as  though  the  inmates  were  buried  in  sleep.  The 
principal  persons  stirring  in  the  streets  were  nursery  maids 
having  little  children  in  their  arms,  and  by  their  side,  taking 
them  out  to  breathe  the  morning  air.  This  is  a  feature  of 
nursery  discipline  that  I  much  like.  Go  out  when  you  will, 
yon  constantly  meet  babies  and  children.  They  seem  to 
live  out  of  doors.     How  different  from  what  it  is  at  home, 


376  LETTERS. 

where  young  children  are  not  allowed  to  breathe  the  fresh 
air.  The  day  we  were  at  Windsor,  I  saw  a  servant  in  the 
park  with  three  children,  the  youngest  of  which  was  but 
nine  months  old,  and  they  were  there  at  least  three  hours,  and 
that  too  towards  the  close  of  the  day,  when  it  was  quite  chilly 
and  damp.  What  would  our  anxious  mothers  say  to  such 
things?  Children  in  England  are  dressed  with  much  taste. 
Their  dresses  are  very  short,  and  their  little  legs  are  bare 
almost  to  the  ankle.  At  first  it  looked  queerly  to  us,  but 
now  I  like  the  fashion. 

After  looking  awhile  at  the  children,  we  began  to  stare  at 
the  signs  over  the  doors,  a  common  occupation,  by  the  way, 
with  people  from  the  country,  and  we  were  highly  amused 
at  the  manner  in  which  they  were  worded,  so  different  from 
what  we  see  at  home.  Let  me  give  you  an  instance.  Over 
a  chemist's  shop  kept  by  a  Mr.  Baker,  the  sign  reads  thus : 
"  Chemist,  Baker,  Druggist,"  thus  having  the  calling  or 
profession  at  either  end,  and  the  name  in  the  middle. 

In  all  the  towns  through  which  we  pass  we  see  something 
*'  to  the  Q,ueen."  Good  lady  !  she  seems  well  provided  for. 
I  have  seen  her  hatter,  saddler,  engraver,  gunmaker,  shoe- 
maker, fruiterer,  rusk-maker,  confectioner,  embroiderer, 
chemists,  and  I  can't  tell  what  else. 

But  to  the  coach.  The  distance  to  Kenilworth  was  five 
miles,  and  at  that  early  hour  of  the  morning  we  found  the 
air  quite  chilly,  like  one  of  our  sharp  mornings  in  October, 
so  that  we  were  glad  to  dismount  from  the  coach  at  the 
village  of  Kenilworth,  and  walk  to  the  castle  almost  a  mile 
beyond.  Our  walk  led  us  through  a  green  lane,  bordered 
by  the  hawthorn  growing  in  luxuriant  wildness,  and  trees 
and  bushes  apparently  untouched  by  the  hand  of  man.  As 
we  wound  around  the  hill  we  caught  glimpses  of  the  grey 
old  castle,  which  made  us  quicken  our  steps,  so  that  soon 
we  stood  within  the  shade  of  its  ruins.  And  how  majestic, 
how  age-worn  those  ruins  are !  I  don't  know  how  I  got  the 
impression,  but  I  thought  there  was  a  suit  of  rooms  still  re- 


LETTERS.  377 

raainiiig,  therefore  to  my  surprise  I  found  the  whole  edifice 
a  mass  of  ruins,  nothing  but  the  walls  standing. 

To  our  great  joy  we  were  not  troubled  with  a  cicerone, 
but  were  left  to  wander  about  at  our  own  pleasure,  and  for 
two  hours  we  rambled  and  scrambled  around,  now  climbing 
to  the  top  of  some  old  tower,  and  then  seating  ourselves  on 
large  pieces  of  stone  and  gazing  on  the  fair  landscape  before 
us. 

There  are  at  present  four  distinct  and  detached  buildings, 
though  they  were  formerly  connected  together,  so  as  to  form 
one  grand  whole,  but  never  could  Kenilworth,  even  in  the 
days  of  her  glory,  when  proud  Leicester  here  held  his  court, 
and  entertained  in  a  sumptuous  manner  the  maiden  queen, 
when  beauty  and  grace  were  here  assembled,  and  the  walls 
re-echoed  the  sound  of  music  and  mirth,  never  could  the 
noble  pile  seem  half  so  interesting  to  me,  as  it  did  to-day 
when  I  stood  beside  its  venerable  remains.  The  walls  are 
covered  with  the  mantling  ivy,  which  seems  to  cling  the 
closer,  as  all  else  forsakes  them.  As  we  wandered  around, 
we  heard  naught  but  the  echo  of  our  own  footsteps,  and  the 
sound  of  our  own  voices,  excepting  when  we  frightened  the 
rooks  from  their  resting  places.  How  solemnly  still  seemed 
those  time-honored  ruins  !  I  looked  upon  them  as  I  would 
upon  an  old,  revered  friend,  whom  I  saw  daily  wasting  away 
before  me. 

We  could  make  out  none  of  the  particular  rooms,  though 
we  knew  which  was  the  great  hall  from  the  large  Gothic 
window ;  but  no  floor,  nor  ceiling  now  remains  to  this 
room.  The  grounds  were  formerly  in  much  better  order 
than  at  present.  A  beautiful  lake  once  lay  before  the  castle; 
now  it  is  no  more  to  be  seen,  having  been  drained  by  that 
destroyer  of  all  things  beautiful,  Oliver  Cromwell,  who  had 
no  taste  for  any  thing,  save  his  own  affected.  Puritanic 
plainness. 

In  one  of  the  towers,  now  fitted  up  as  a  dwelling-house  for 
the  keeper  of  the  castle,  we  saw  the  fire-place  which  once 
32* 


378  LETTERS. 

Stood  in  "  Leicester  Building."  It  is  of  marble,  richly  sculp- 
tured, encased  in  a  frame  of  oak  also  carved.  The  room 
was  wainscoted  with  oak,  taken  from  some  room  in  the 
castle. 

On  our  return  to  the  village,  we  found  to  our  dismay  that 
no  coach  came  along  till  one  o'clock.  Now  we  could  not 
wait  till  that  hour,  without  disarranging  all  our  plans  for  the 
day.  We  tried  to  hire  a  horse  and  carriage  at  the  inn  ;  it 
was  in  vain,  they  were  not  "licensed  to  let  horses."  There 
remained  no  alternative  but  to  walk;  so,  notwithstanding 
our  previous  ramble,  we  started  on  quite  cheerily,  and 
actually  walked  the  five  miles  without  stopping,  except  to  get 
a  glass  of  lemonade.  Am  I  not  growing  smart,  or,  as  the 
English  would  say,  "clever"?  It  was  quite  warm;  but 
the  road  was  shady,  so  we  found  the  walk  very  pleasant. 
We  passed  by  several  seats ;  one  belonging  to  Lord  Leigh, 
having  one  hundred  acres  of  woodland.  Besides  this,  he 
owns  four  other  large  estates. 

After  taking  lunch  at  Leamington,  we  went  to  Warwick, 
two  miles  farther,  where  we  stopped  two  or  three  hours. 
Here  we  had  another  rich  treat,  in  visiting  Warwick  Castle, 
which  ranks  in  size  next  to  that  at  Windsor.  It  is  sur- 
rounded by  a  thick  wall,  and  the  gate  at  the  entrance  is  of 
immense  strength.  From  the  gateway  we  went  to  the  castle 
through  a  winding  passage,  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock,  and 
overgrown  with  moss  and  ivy.  We  entered  a  large  hall 
paved  with  red  and  white  marble,  arranged  in  diamond  form. 
The  walls  are  of  oak,  and  the  ceiling  is  painted  to  imitate  the 
same  kind  of  wood.  Around  the  walls  hang  many  pieces  of 
armor,  helmets,  shields,  bucklers,  spears,  and  coats  of  mail. 
The  frames  of  the  chairs,  sofas,  and  tables,  are  of  oak, 
beautifully  carved.  The  walls  of  this  hall  are  ten  feet 
thick. 

The  drawing-room  is  wainscoted  with  cedar.  The  chairs 
are  covered  with  figured  velvet,  which  our  garrulous  guide 
told  us  cost  five  hundred  pounds.    Then  came  the  gilt-room; 


LETTERS.  379 

the  walls  of  which  are  paneled  in  gilt,  and  the  ceiling  carved 
and  gilded.  Here  are  some  beautiful  cabinets  of  turtle-shell, 
inlaid  with  brass,  and  a  mosaic  table,  composed  of  large 
pieces  of  lapis  lazuli,  amethyst,  topaz,  and  other  precious 
stones. 

In  the  next  room  was  dueen  Anne's  state-bed,  presented 
by  George  III.  It  is  covered  with  white  damask,  wrought 
with  colored  silks,  and  has  curtains  of  crimson  velvet  em- 
broidered with  gold.  The  walls  are  hung  with  tapestry 
representing  the  royal  garden  at  Versailles,  and  is  a  curious 
piece  of  workmanship.  It  is  two  hundred  and  thirty-seven 
years  old. 

Lady  Warwick's  boudoir  is  quite  plain  looking,  the  walls 
being  lined  with  drab  velvet,  and  the  chairs  covered  with 
satin  of  the  same  color. 

We  then  went  into  a  little  room  called  the  "  compass- 
room,"  cut  out  of  the  thickness  of  the  wall  of  the  castle. 
Here  were  a  beautifully  painted  window,  and  two  vases  of 
Derbyshire  spar,  and  one  of  cut  crystal,  which  were  made  at 
Birmingham. 

From  this  we  went  into  the  chapel,  a  neat,  plain  room ; 
then  through  a  narrow  hall  to  the  dining-room,  having  the 
ceiling  and  walls  gilded,  and  so  came  to  the  breakfast-room, 
a  snug,  comfortable  apartment.  In  all  these  rooms,  there 
are  fine  paintings,  mostly  portraits ;  but  we  were  so  hurried 
along,  that  we  could  give  but  little  attention  to  them. 

We  rambled  for  some  time  around  the  park.  It  is  seven 
miles  in  extent,  and  is  adorned  by  a  little  river,  which  in  one 
part  is  made  to  fall  over  a  dam,  producing  quite  a  cascade. 
In  the  park  are  some  noble  cedars  ;  one  over  three  hundred 
years  old,  and  measuring  twenty-seven  feet  round.  In  the 
garden,  which  bears  the  marks  of  sad  neglect,  is  a  conserva- 
tory, in  which  is  the  celebrated  Warwick  vase,  (or  vass  as  it 
is  pronounced  here,)  the  history  of  which  I  do  not  know, 
except  that  it  was  found  in  Adrian's  villa  near  Rome.  It  is 
a  magnificent  affair,   of  white  marble,   sculptured  in  alto- 


LETTERS. 

relievo.  It  is  seven  feet  across  at  the  top,  and  will  hold  one 
hundred  and  sixty-three  gallons. 

In  the  porter's  lodge  is  the  armor  once  worn  by  Guy, 
Earl  of  Warwick.  He  seems  to  have  been  an  extraordinary 
sort  of  a  personage.  His  shield,  helmet,  sword,  and  spear, 
weigh  one  hundred  and  seventy  pounds ;  and  the  spear  is 
nine  feet  ten  inches  long,  he  having  stood  in  his  shoes  eight 
feet  eleven  inches.  There  is  a  wonderful  story  about  his 
having  killed  a  "  dun  cow,"  a  rib  of  which  is  here  seen, 
which  looks  as  though  it  belonged  to  an  elephant.  In  the 
centre  of  the  room  is  a  great  iron  pot,  called  "  Sir  Guy's 
porridge  pot."  It  is  now  used  as  a  punch  bowl ;  and  at 
Lord  Warwick's  coming  of  age,  it  was  filled  full  three  times 
with  punch,  which  was  given  out  to  the  common  people.  It 
requires  eighteen  gallons  of  rum,  eighteen  of  water,  and  one 
hundred  pounds  of  sugar  to  fill  it.  And  thus  ended  our 
visit  to  Warwick  Castle. 

We  walked  around  in  the  village,  waiting  for  the  Birming- 
ham coach  to  come  along.  We  stopped  and  admired  the 
outside  of  the  old  church,  and  passed  under  a  noble  Gothic 
gateway.  The  streets  were  filled  with  stalls  covered  with 
fruit,  vegetables,  and  meat  in  abundance,  to-day  being  mar- 
ket day.  Large  spaces  were  covered  with  crockery  ware ; 
and  we  passed  by  numerous  coops  filled  with  hens  and 
chickens,  and  pens  full  of  pigs,  both  large  and  small. 

About  five  o'clock  the  coach  came  along,  and  we  were 
once  more  elevated  to  our  favorite  seats.  It  so  soon  grew 
grew  dark,  we  could  see  but  little  of  the  country.  We 
passed  two  gipsey  carts,  the  occupants  of  which  were  busily 
engaged  in  various  occupations.  One  w^oman  was  cooking 
over  a  fire  made  on  the  ground,  another  was  ironing  on  the 
grass,  children  were  scattered  about,  two  donkeys  were 
quietly  grazing  at  a  little  distance,  the  bushes  were  covered 
with  clothes,  and  altogether  it  was  quite  a  picturesque 
scene. 

As  we  neared  this  place,  we  were  struck  by  the  change 


LETTERS.  381 

in  the  air ;  it  was  thick  with  a  mixture  of  smoke  and  fog, 
intolerable  both  to  the  eyes  and  the  nose. 

We  stopped  at  the  ''King's  Head,"  and  after  taking  a 
light  supper  walked  out.  At  any  other  time,  I  should  not 
have  thought  that  I  could  have  gone  out  after  so  fatiguing  a 
day,  but  I  was  anxious  to  witness  the  bustle  of  a  large 
manufacturing  town  on  Saturday  evening.  We  were  warned 
at  the  inn  to  leave  our  watches  and  purses  at  home,  as  it  is 
not  always  safe  in  the  evening  to  have  such  articles  about. 
We  found  the  streets  full ;  the  shops  displaying  their  choicest 
and  cheapest  goods,  and  the  sidewalks  thronged  with  both 
buyers  and  sellers.  We  went  into  the  market-house,  a  large, 
handsome  building,  well  lighted  with  gas.  The  stands  were 
arranged  in  rows  through  the  room.  Here  were  displayed, 
not  only  all  kinds  of  provisions,  but  all  sorts  of  necessaries  ; 
hats,  clothes,  and  shoes,  both  new  and  old;  baskets,  crockery, 
toys,  cutlery,  in  short  any  thing  and  every  thing.  Salesmen 
were  exerting  their  utmost  eloquence  to  induce  their  cus- 
tomers to  make  large  purchases.  Everybody  bought  some- 
thing ;  the  men  and  boys  had  on  long  aprons,  well  filled  with 
provisions  for  the  coming  week.  They  looked  pale  and 
sallow,  and  were  far  from  being  clean  and  tidy.  The  women 
all  had  care-worn  faces. 

We  then  walked  up  and  down  the  principal  street.  This 
was  thronged  with  boys  and  girls  selling  matches,  toys, 
pocket-books,  pencils,  fruit,  &.c.  Here  too  were  beggars 
and  blind  people  asking  alms.  One  blind  couple  were  led 
by  a  dog,  the  woman  carrying  a  lantern,  not  to  help  them, 
but  to  aid  the  vision  of  other  people,  who  otherwise  might  pass 
them  by  without  notice.  The  man  sung  in  a  dolorous  tone, 
something  doubtless  quite  pathetic ;  but  I  only  could  catch 
the  words,  "  Neither  of  us  cannot  see."  Then  came  a  whole 
family  of  beggars;  the  father  telling  his  pitiful  story,  and  the 
wife  and  children  responding  in  a  sing-song  tone  at  proper 
intervals.  Soon  we  were  attracted  by  a  crowd,  in  the  midst 
of  which  was  a  man  wearing  a  white  apron,  who  was  com- 


382  LETTERS. 

plaining  in  a  loud  tone  of  the  small  wages  paid  to  those  that 
worked  in  the  manufacturies. 

While  we  stood  listening  to  him,  another  man  wearing  an 
apron  came  along  He  told  us  that  the  speaker  had  been  at 
work  in  a  cotton  factory,  but  that  he  had  lately  been  thrown 
out  of  employment,  and  that  there  were  hundreds  of  work- 
people around,  actually  suffering  on  account  of  the  lowness 
of  wages,  and  the  high  prices  of  provisions.  Well,  I  told 
him  that  when  the  nobility  would  give  up  some  of  their  wealth 
to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  poor,  and  the  thousands  of 
pounds  now  spent  on  needless  show  and  luxuries  be  turned 
into  other  channels,  I  would  then  listen  with  sympathy  to 
the  cries  of  hard  times. 

But  I  have  quite  tired  myself  out  in  writing  this  long 
letter  after  so  exciting  a  day.  Exhausted  nature  calls  loudly 
for  her  "  sweet  restorer,"  and  I  most  gladly  obey  the  call. 
Again  good  night. 


Liverpool,  Wednesday  morning. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

Quite  contrary  to  my  usual  custom,  I  am  writing  in  the 
morning.  J.  is  at  the  banker's  waiting  for  our  letters,  the 
steamer  having  just  arrived.  Does  it  not  seem  that  we  are 
almost  at  home  now  we  are  here  ?  yet  it  must  be  several 
weeks  longer  before  we  even  begin  to  think  of  leaving  the 
old  country,  so  much  is  there  yet  to  be  seen.  We  shall  stay 
as  long  as  the  weather  continues  comfortable. 

I  closed  my  last  letter  at  Birmingham,  on  Saturday  even- 
ing. We  did  not  leave  till  Monday  afternoon ;  but  I  had  no 
time  to  write  any  more,  though  I  did  not  send  my  letter  off 
till  I  got  here.  On  Sunday  we  attended  the  chapel  where 
John  Angell  James  preaches.  It  is  built  of  brick,  but  has  a 
handsome  stone  portico.     The  interior  is  quite  plain,  though 


LETTERS.  383 

behind  the  pulpit  there  is  a  row  of  noble  pillars.  Over  the 
pulpit  is  a  gallery,  which  was  filled  with  charity  children, 
dressed  in  uniform  ;  the  girls  wearing  the  most  old  womanish 
caps  I  ever  saw.  In  every  church  where  we  have  been,  there 
has  been  a  gallery  filled  with  charity  children. 

Mr.  James  was  not  in  town,  so  we  were  disappointed  in 
not  hearing  him,  though  we  heard  a  very  good  sermon  by 
a  Mr.  Ford. 

I  found  the  air  so  close  and  oppressive,  that  I  was  obliged 
to  keep  perfectly  quiet  the  rest  of  the  day.  On  Monday  we 
spent  three  or  four  hours  in  looking  around  the  town,  and 
we  were  really  quite  happily  disappointed  in  it.  I  had  an 
idea  the  streets  were  narrow  and  dirty,  and  the  houses  dark 
and  high ;  on  the  contrary,  we  found  the  streets  quite  wide 
and  very  clean,  and  the  houses  but  of  moderate  height ;  and 
being  built  of  red  brick,  they  have  a  lighter  and  less  sombre 
appearance  than  those  built  of  stone.  The  churches  are 
fine  looking  buildings ;  "  the  College,"  a  free  grammar- 
school,  is  a  handsome  edifice,  in  the  Gothic  style,  of  light 
colored  stone ;  and  the  Town  Hall  is  really  quite  magnifi- 
cent, being  built  in  the  form  of  a  Roman  temple,  and  sur- 
rounded by  an  elegant  portico.  Just  below  the  market  is  a 
statue  of  Lord  Nelson,  done  by  Westmacott. 

In  another  respect  we  were  happily  disappointed  ;  for  we 
found  the  air  much  clearer  and  purer  than  we  anticipated, 
owing  I  suppose  to  its  being  Monday,  the  smoke  having  had 
an  opportunity  the  day  before  to  take  itself  off. 

We  visited  "  Coil's  collection  of  plated,  silver,  and  japan 
articles."  In  the  show-rooms  we  saw  every  thing  handsome, 
appertaining  to  such  an  establishment ;  candlesticks,  cande- 
labras,  lamps,  tables  inlaid  with  silver  and  pearl,  dressing 
boxes,  some  prized  at  fifty  guineas,  beautiful  screens  and 
baskets,  razors,  scissors,  pencils,  gold  chains,  and  ornaments 
of  all  kinds ;  casts,  medals,  and  a  fac-simile  in  bronze  of 
the  great  "  Warwick  vass,"  made  at  this  establishment,  and 
employing  the  sculptor  eight  years. 


384  LETTERS. 

In  the  work-rooms  there  were  but  few  men,  the  overseer 
telling  us  that  the  hands  always  would  keep  ''  blue  Monday." 
We  saw  many  different  things  going  on  there  ;  but  I  cannot 
enter  into  farther  details. 

We  were  nearly  six  hours  in  coming  from  Birmingham  by 
railway  here,  a  distance  of  ninety-six  miles.  We  came  very 
slowly,  or  rather  we  stopped  so  often,  and  so  long  at  each 
place,  that  it  was  exceedingly  tedious.  Besides  the  carriages 
were  uncomfortable ;  they  were  narrower  and  much  more 
shut  up  than  those  on  the  Great  Western  road,  and  the  air 
was  very  close.  Altogether  it  was  the  most  unpleasant  ride 
I  ever  took,  always  excepting  our  joiyney  from  Avignon  to 
Marseilles.  •  The  track  on  this  road  is  but  four  feet  and  a 
half  wide;  so  I  suppose  the  engine  could  not  run  so  quick 
as  on  a  wider  track,  at  least  not  with  the  same  degree  of 
safety. 

The  country  through  which  we  passed  was  thickly  dotted 
with  towns  and  villages,  manufacturing  places  apparently 
from  the  high  chimneys  every  where  sending  up  their  dense 
columns  of  smoke,  darkening  and  polluting  the  air.  Oh  ! 
I  would  not  live  in  the  manufacturing  district  of  England 
for  any  sum  of  money ;  the  smell  of  coal-smoke  is  to  me  in- 
tolerable. 

As  we  entered  this  place,  we  passed  through  a  tunnel  a 
mile  and  a  half  long,  running  under  a  part  of  the  town.  We 
came  to  the  Wellington  Hotel. 

Yesterday  we  walked  around  the  town  viewing  the  won- 
ders ;  and  yet  perhaps  when  I  tell  you  what  we  saw,  you 
will  say  there  were  not  many  "  wonders."  Some  of  the 
streets  are  quite  handsome,  others  are  directly  the  opposite. 
Many  of  the  houses  are  of  brick,  the  remainder  are  of  stone ; 
for  you  never  see  a  wooden  house  in  this  country.  The 
Town  Hall  is  a  handsome  building,  adorned  with  Corinthian 
pillars,  and  surmounted  by  a  dome,  on  top  of  which  is  a 
statue,  representing  Britannia.  Back  of  this  are  the  new 
Exchange  Buildings,  forming  three  sides  of  a  square.     They 


LETTERS.  885 

are  of  dark  stone,  and  have  a  fine  colonnade  running  around 
them.  In  the  centre  of  the  square  is  a  bronze  statue  of 
Lord  Nelson.  Victory  stands  behind  him,  holding  in  her 
hand  a  wreath  of  laurel ;  and  Death  is  near  him,  looking 
out  from  a  shroud,  and  having  one  bony  hand  laid  upon  him. 
Around  are  emblems  of  the  navy,  sails,  anchors,  and  cables 
On  the  pedestal  are  seated  in  attitudes  of  grief  several 
figures  with  chains  around  them. 

The  square  had  a  busy  look  ;  merchants  were  walking 
about  discoursing  of  matters  and  things  in  relation  to  their 
several  callings.  Laborers  were  there  too,  waiting  to  be 
hired.  In  one  of  the  buildings  is  an  immense  reading-room, 
occupying  the  whole  of  one  side  of  the  square. 

The  Custom  House  is  also  a  magnificent  building ;  con- 
sisting of  a  centre  and  two  wings,  and  having  a  noble  Ionic 
portico.     One  part  is  used  as  the  Post  Office. 

We  walked  for  some  time  along  the  wharves.  A  canal  is 
built  up  from  the  river,  and  it  was  thronged  with  vessels  of 
all  kinds,  and  from  all  countries.  Along  the  borders  of  the 
canal,  there  are  vast  warehouses  of  dark  brick,  and  a  covered 
way  on  the  very  margin  of  the  water,  to  protect  from  the 
weather  the  cargoes  of  ships  there  unladen.  We  crossed 
the  canal  by  a  little  bridge  ;  and  walked  on  a  short  distance 
till  we  came  to  the  Mersey,  a  wide,  rapid,  and  muddy  look- 
ing river.  Steamers  and  boats  were  flying  about  in  every 
direction.  When  we  came  back  to  the  canal,  we  were 
obliged  to  wait  some  time,  as  a  ship  was  passing  through  the 
bridge,  which  was  opened  in  the  middle,  one  half  swinging 
round  on  one  side,  and  the  other,  on  the  other,  both  parts 
resting  on  the  wharf  We  came  home  through  many  dif- 
ferent streets,  some  of  them  dirty  and  miserable  looking  in 
the  extreme,  others  quite  clean.  One  thing  I  have  seen^ 
here  that  I  never  saw  before,  wretched  looking  women 
and  children  half  clad,  going  about  the  streets,  and  scraping 
up  manure  with  their  bare  hands,  and  putting  it  into  dirty 
baskets,  and  even  into  their  aprons.  Although  I  have  seen 
33 


386  LETTERS. 

many  miserable,  wretched  looking  people,  although  I  have 
seen  many  dark  and  dreary  abodes,  yet  I  never  before  saw 
so  many  distressing  objects,  never  before  such  cheerless 
dwellings. 

The  houses  are  high,  with  deep  basements,  and  in  these 
basements,  the  most  of  the  poor  people  live  ;  their  dwelling- 
places  damp,  dreary,  and  almost  entirely  under  ground. 
Last  evening  as  we  took  our  accustomed  walk,  we  saw  many 
pale,  desolate  looking  women  and  children  sitting  on  the 
steps  leading  to  their  subterranean  abodes,  breathing  for  a 
few  minutes  the  fresh  air  :  and  polluted  as  that  air  seemed  to 
us,  and  almost  insupportable,  doubtless  it  was  pure  to  them, 
and  like  heaven's  rich  blessing,  after  being  confined  in  their 
damp  cells  all  the  day.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  country 
in  the  world,  where  extreme  wealth  and  abject  poverty  go 
hand  in  hand  as  in  England  ;  for  while  the  nobles  revel  in 
almost  boundless  wealth,  the  poor  grovel  in  soul-destroying, 
mind-enervating  poverty.  And  yet  how  much  do  we  hear 
of  merry,  happy  England  ! 

And  although  much  is  said  of  the  danger  of  travelling  in 
Italy  and  France,  for  fear  of  robbers  and  assassins,  yet  I 
never  felt  half  the  fear  in  the  narrow,  dark  streets  of  Naples 
and  Rome,  as  I  have  in  the  large  towns  in  England.  Not 
that  by  any  means  I  dread  the  assassin's  dagger  here,  for  I 
do  not  suppose  murder  is  often  committed  in  such  public 
places,  but  I  actually  think  there  are  more  pickpockets  in 
England  than  in  any  country  on  the  continent.  Perhaps  I 
speak  too  boldly  on  these  subjects,  but  I  give  you  my  im- 
pressions, and  you  can  take  them  for  what  they  are  worth. 

Last  evening  in  our  wanderings  we  lost  our  way,  and  we 
inquired  of  a  policeman  how  we  should  get  into  Dale  street. 
He  pointed  to  two  different  streets,  saying  that  they  would 
both  lead  into  it,  but  he  told  us  that  they  were  bad  streets, 
and  advised  us  to  go  home  by  a  more  circuitous  and  fre- 
quented route,  he  himself  kindly  showing  us  the  way.  We 
never  ask  directions  from  any  one  but  a  policeman,  for  fear 


LETTERS.  387 

of  being  misled,   and  from  them  we  always  get  civil  and 
obliging  answers. 

Ah  welcome  sight !  J.  has  come  in  with  a  long  letter, 
and  I  must  leave  off  talking  with  you,  and  for  a  while  listen 
to  the  news  from  my  own  dear  home,  and  then  we  shall 
once  be  on  the  move,  and  so  good  bye. 


Keswick,  Sept.  6th. 
My  dearest  P.  : 

You  will  think  we  have  almost  taken  a  leap  here,  yet 
listen,  and  you  shall  have  all  the  details  of  our  journey 
hither.  We  went  to  Lancaster  from  Liverpool  by  railway. 
We  passed  by  a  number  of  manufacturing  villages,  and 
through  a  coal  district,  so  that  the  air,  for  nearly  the  whole 
distance,  was  actually  black  with  dust  and  smoke.  The 
country,  I  should  judge  from  the  snatches  I  got  of  it,  was 
fine.  Lancaster  is  a  small  town  on  the  river  Lune,  at  a 
little  distance  from  its  mouth.  It  has  some  shipping,  good 
wharves,  and  a  noble  range  of  warehouses  along  them.  The 
houses  are  mostly  built  of  dark  grey  stone,  some  of  them  are 
quite  handsome,  but  generally  they  are  common  and  dirty 
looking. 

The  principal  object  of  attraction  is  the  castle,  erected  in 
the  reign  of  Edward  III.  in  the  fourteenth  century.  It  is  on 
a  hill  commanding  a  good  view  of  the  town,  and  is  well 
built  and  strong,  though  it  bears  the  marks  of  being  much 
more  modern  than  it  is  said  to  be.  It  must  have  undergone 
thorough  repairs  lately.    At  present  it  is  used  as  a  county  jail. 

From  Lancaster  we  went  by  coach  to  Ambleside.  To  give 
you  some  idea  of  the  rapidity  and  ease  with  which  we  go 
over  these  fine  English  roads,  I  will  just  say,  that  at  that 
time  we  went  thirty-four  miles  in  less  than  four  hours.  This 
ride  was  more  picturesque  and  varied  than  any  we  had  before 
taken,  the  last  part  a  little  too  much  varied,  for  there  came 


9§i  LETTERS. 

up  a  violent  shower,  and  we  being  on  the  outside  of  the 
coach,  did  not  find  that  so  very  pleasant.  The  country  all 
the  way  was  hilly,  and  in  some  parts  quite  barren,  in  others, 
green  and  fertile.  We  passed  through  several  villages,  the 
largest  of  which  was  Kendal ;  none  of  them  were  pretty.  In 
fact  no  where  have  I  seen  the  handsome  villages  and  cot- 
tages, that  I  expected  to  see.  As  I  said  in  one  of  my  former 
letters,  the  houses  of  the  nobility  are  fine,  but  in  the  cot- 
tages I  am  much  disappointed,  for  I  have  always  heard  an 
English  cottage  spoken  of  as  the  perfection  of  rural  archi- 
tecture. The  porters'  lodges  at  the  entrance  to  gentlemen's 
seats,  are  the  prettiest  specimens  of  cottages  that  I  have  seen 
in  this  country,  but  they  are  built  by  wealthy  persons,  so 
are  no  index  to  the  architectural  taste  of  the  common 
people. 

For  ten  miles  before  reaching  Ambleside  our  road  was 
along  the  margin  of  lake  Windermere,  and  then  the  country 
was  really  enchanting.  The  lake  was  not  very  wide,  and 
on  the  opposite  side  mountains  arose,  casting  their  shadows 
over  the  water,  while  we  wound  along  through  varied  scenes, 
now  through  a  wild  and  uncultivated  tract,  the  thick  trees 
and  underwood  scarcely  allowing  us  a  glimpse  of  the  lake, 
and  then  through  lawns  and  meadows  green  and  bright,  and  the 
lake  dotted  with  its  little  islands  lying  in  full  view  before  us. 
The  clouds  and  the  rain  made  the  distant  hills  appear  more 
shadowy  and  indistinct,  and  thus  grandeur  was  added  to  the 
scene.     It  seemed  more  like  Switzerland  than  England. 

Ambleside  is  a  little  way  from  the  lake,  though  within 
walking  distance  of  it,  and  we  anticipated  taking  many 
long  walks  amid  its  charming  environs,  but  unfortunately 
for  us  it  rained  incessantly  all  the  time  we  were  there, 
and  I  dared  not  venture  out,  as  I  was  suffering  under  a 
severe  cold;  I  spent  the  time  diligently  in  writing,  how- 
ever, so  that  it  by  no  means  seemed  long  to  me.  J. 
ventured  out  on  the  lake  in  despite  of  the  rain,  and  came 
home  highly  delighted  with  the  sail.    Afterwards  in  loitering 


LETTERS.  389 

around,  he  was  suddenly  stopped  in  his  rambles,  by  seeincr 
several  signs  bearing  the  startling  announcement  that 
"  spring  guns  and  man  traps "  were  concealed  in  the 
grounds  around  the  lake,  so  for  fear  of  being  caught  as  a 
trespasser,  he  hurried  home. 

On  Friday,  the  sun  set  clearly  behind  the  hills,  brighten- 
ing their  tops  with  a  golden  lustre,  and  I  stood  at  my  win- 
dow enjoying  the  fair  prospect,  and  hoping  that  so  charmino- 
a  sunset  would  be  followed  by  a  fair  day  ;  but  alas  for  hopes, 
the  next  day  proved  even  more  unpleasant,  the  rain  actually 
pouring  down  in  torrents,  till  about  four  o'clock  when  it  sud- 
denly ceased,  so  we  started  off,  not  knowing  exactly  where 
we  should  stop,  whether  at  Grasmere,  or  at  Wylau  at  the 
foot  of  Helvellyn,  but  at  both  places  the  inns  seemed  so  un- 
inviting, we  concluded  to  come  on  to  this  village. 

The  ride  was  full  of  interest  to  us,  the  scenery  was  so 
wild  and  grand.  Near  Ambleside  the  country  was  romantic 
and  picturesque,  and  as  we  wound  around  among  hills  and 
ravines  and  glens,  I  sighed  with  regret  that  I  had  not  been 
able  to  see  more  of  them.  But  why  repine  ?  He,  in  whose 
hands  are  the  clouds  and  the  winds,  knows  far  better  than 
we  do,  how  to  order  the  elements  for  our  good. 

About  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Ambleside,  is  Rydal,  a 
small  lake  embosomed  among  the  hills.  At  the  delightful 
hour  of  twilight,  the  clear  lake  reflected  on  its  glassy  surface 
the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  as  they  shone  on  the  moun- 
tain tops.  Near  Rydal,  is  Wordsworth's  seat,  a  large  stone 
house,  having  the  grounds  around  it  prettily  laid  out.  A 
mile  farther  on,  is  Coleridge's  cottage,  a  small  stone  house, 
with  ivy  creeping  around  the  windows.  It  is  not  very 
charming  now,  though  it  must  have  been  in  his  time,  if  it  is 
the  same  cottage  to  which  he  alludes  in  some  of  his  poems. 
Soon  we  reached  Grasmere,  a  larger  lake  than  Rydal,  also 
surrounded  by  hills.  It  is  dotted  with  islands,  in  one  of 
which  the  herons  build  their  nests,  the  only  spot  about  here 
where  they  ever  build.  From  Grasmere  here  the  country 
33* 


390  ;.ETTERS. 

was  yet  more  picturesque  and  wild.  Our  road  wound 
among  hills  and  dales,  now  by  a  murmuring  rivulet,  now  by 
a  placid  lake,  and  then  by  little  rushing  torrents,  that  were 
making  their  way  quickly  down  the  mountain  side.  All 
these  reminded  me  of  Switzerland.  We  passed  by  Hel- 
vellyn,  a  mountain  rising  three  thousand  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea.  I  turned  many  *'  a  longing,  lingering  look  "  to- 
ward it,  being  anxious  to  ascend  it,  that  I  might  say  with 
Scott, 

"  I  climed  the  dark  brow  of  the  mighty  Helvellyn," 

but  we  could  not  think  of  stopping  at  so  poor  looking  an 
inn,  and  besides  there  was  no  church  near,  so  that  it  would 
not  have  been  pleasant  for  us  to  have  staid  there  on  Sunday. 
After  leaving  Helvellyn  it  became  too  dark  to  see  much, 
except  the  dusky  forms  of  the  mountains  as  they  rose  all 
around  us,  and  the  gleaming  of  the  waters  of  Thurlmere,  as 
we  passed  along  its  margin.  Occasionally  we  heard  the 
murmuring  of  rivulets  and  cascades. 

For  the  first  time  in  our  journey,  I  felt  a  little  afraid  of 
our  coachman.  At  every  inn  he  took  something  to  drink, 
so  that  before  we  got  here  I  did  not  know  but  he  would  lose 
all  control  over  himself,  still  he  seemed  careful  and  watch- 
ful, putting  on  the  drag  at  every,  hill,  but  there  we  were, 
J.  and  I  alone,  no  other  passengers,  and  in  a  strange 
and  wild  country  at  a  late  hour,  and  what  would  have  be- 
come of  us  if  the  horses  got  restive,  and  the  coachman  not 
able  to  manage  them?  I  assure  you  I  began  to  breathe 
freely  when  we  entered  this  village,  a  quiet  little  spot  situ^ 
ated  between  Derwent  and  Bassenthwaite  lakes. 

Yesterday  morning  we  attended  service  in  a  neat  little 
Gothic  church.  Prayers  were  read  with  more  feeling  and 
solemnity  than  we  are  accustomed  to  witness  among  the 
English  clergy.  There  was  no  sermon,  but  the  communion 
was  administered.  When  we  first  went  in  the  m  inister  was 
catechizing  the  children.     In  reading  the   creed  he  turned 


LETTERS.  391 

his  face  toward  the  cast.  There  were  but  few  pews  in  the 
church,  the  most  of  the  congregation  sitting  on  benches. 

After  church,  we  rambled  along  the  lake  side.  We 
climed  up  Castlerig,  a  high  hill,  and  sat  down  where  we  had 
a  delightful  view  of  the  lake.  All  nature  proclaimed  a 
Sabbath ;  earth,  air,  water  were  as  still  as  when  creation's 
light  first  dawned  upon  the  world.  The  lake  was  unruffled 
and  as  clear  as  a  mirror.  Its  placid  surface  was  dotted  with 
wooded  islands,  every  tree  and  shrub  reflected  in  the  water. 
All  around  us  mountains  raised  their  lofty  peaks,  while  be- 
tween them  lay  many  a  smiling  vale.  It  was  a  beautiful 
scene,  well  suited  to  the  day.  We  had  just  gone  from 
worshipping  God  in  His  sanctuary,  here  was  a  still  more 
beautiful  temple  in  which  we  could  adore  Him.  And  oh ! 
how  full  everything  was  of  His  praise  !  The  little  birds 
seemed  to  warble  sweeter  notes,  and  all  nature  wore  a 
smiling  aspect  as  if  in  gratitude  to  Him,  who  had  set  apart 
this  day  for  His  more  immediate  worship  and  service. 

At  our  feet,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  lake,  clustered 
the  houses  of  Keswick,  and  farther  on,  o'ertopped  by  lofty 
hills,  lay  the  beautiful  sheet  of  '*  Bassenthwaite  water." 
After  we  left  Castlerig  we  walked  along  to  the  end  of  the 
lake,  admiring  the  scenery,  which  grew  grander  as  we  went 
on.  The  hills  became  higher  and  more  sterile,  the  woods 
were  wilder  and  more  overgrown  with  underbrush,  a  little 
brook  went  gurgling  by,  and  two  or  three  cascades  came 
jumping  down  the  mountain  side,  leaping  from  rock  to  rock, 
fearless  and  free. 

In  the  evening  J.  went  again  to  church,  but  I  spent 
the  quiet  hour  in  my  own  room.  It  was  a  cheerful  room, 
with  a  bright  fire  burning  in  the  grate,  and  as  I  sat  in  a  large 
chair  before  it,  and  looked  at  the  red  coals,  my  mind  in- 
sensibly wandered  to  you,  and  I  fancied  to  myself  how  you 
were  all  looking,  and  what  you  were  all  doing.  Need  I  say 
I  longed  to  be  in  your  midst?  In  one  month  we  shall 
probably  be  on  the  sea,    and  then  if  we  safely  pass  through 


392;  LETTERS. 

the  dangers  of  a  voyage  at  that  inclement  season  of  the  year, 
we  shall  soon  be  with  you. 

We  have  spent  the  most  of  this  day  in  walking  around  the 
charming  environs  of  this  village.  About  two  miles  from 
here  is  what  is  called  **  The  Druids'  Temple."  It  consists 
of  large  stones,  or  I  might  call  them  rocks,  placed  around  in 
a  ring ;  on  one  side  within  the  enclosure  are  several  other 
stones,  supposed  to  have  been  used  as  altars  for  the  sacri- 
fices. This  temple  is  in  a  wild  place  lying  in  a  little  hol- 
low, with  lofty  hills  rising  up  around  it. 

After  we  left  it  we  started  to  go  to  Bassenthwaite  water, 
and  we  walked  till  I  was  too  tired  to  go  another  step,  then 
finding  that  we  should  pass  by  the  lake  to-morrow  we  turned 
our  steps  towards  home.  We  passed  (at  a  little  distance 
from  the  road)  Greta  Hall,  the  residence  of  Southey.  The 
large  stone  house  is  almost  hidden  from  sight  by  the  nu- 
merous trees  around  it.  It  is  a  delightful  spot.  Indeed  all 
around  these  lakes  are  beautiful  seats.  The  weather  to-day 
has  been  warm  and  pleasant,  though  there  was  some  frost 
last  night.  For  two  or  three  days  it  has  been  as  cold  as  it 
it  is  with  us  in  November,  so  that  we  have  been  obliged  to 
have  a  fire  to  sit  by. 

I  came  home  from  walking  with  a  violent  headache,  so 
that  I  was  forced  to  seek  rest  in  sleep,  and  although  this 
evening  there  were  fireworks  on  the  lake,  I  could  not  sum- 
mon resolution  to  go  out  to  see  them. 

And  now  it  is  time  that  this  long  letter  were  brought  to  a 
close,  so  I  leave  you. 


Newcastle,  Wednesday  eve. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

We  left  Keswick  quite  early  yesterday  morning.  I  am 
happy  to  bear  testimony  to  the  quiet  and  comfortable  inn  at 
that  place,    and  then  too   the   charges  were  so   moderate. 


LETTERS.  393 

Though  we  were  there  three  nights  and  two  days,  and  had  a 
parlor  and  a  fire  in  it,  our  bill  was  but  fourteen  shillings, 
(understand  me,  when  I  speak  of  money  I  always  mean  the 
money  here,  unless  I  say  "  our  money,"  and  if  you  will  just 
bear  in  mind  that  English  money  is  one  third  more  than 
ours,  you  will  readily  know  the  value  of  the  sums  I  mention  ; 
thus,  three  shillings  here  is  four  with  you,  and  so  on.  Pray 
pardon  this  interruption  and  explanation,  but  I  did  not  know 
but  that  in  the  hurry  of  reading  my  wordy  epistles,  you 
might  not  have  this  fact  in  your  recollection,  and  so  not 
give  full  justice  to  the  high  prices  set  upon  every  thing  in 
this  country.)  As  we  had  our  breakfast  yesterday  morning 
in  a  hurry,  our  kind  landlady  would  not  make  any  mention 
of  it  in  her  bill.  I  sent  my  best  respects  to  her,  and  told 
her  I  would  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  recommending  her 
house.  Will  you  allow  me  again  to  go  a  little  off  my  track, 
to  say  a  few  words  in  relation  to  the  inns  in  this  country  1 

They  are  mostly  kept  by  women ;  if  indeed  there  is  an 
host,  he  keeps  in  the  background,  the  cares  and  labors 
seeming  to  devolve  entirely  upon  the  females  of  the  house. 
Indeed  at  some  inns  where  we  have  stopped,  I  have  not 
seen  a  man  servant,  our  chambermaid  attending  on  us  at 
table,  and  always  answering  our  bell.  This  of  course 
applies  to  the  small  inns  in  country  towns. 

And  now  I  will  come  back  to  our  journey  from  Keswick 
to  Carlisle.  We  found  a  ride  of  six  hours  on  top  of  a 
coach  in  a  raw,  windy  morning,  not  so  very  pleasant,  but 
wrapped  in  our  thick  cloaks,  we  braved  the  wind  and  cold, 
preferring  to  see  the  country  to  taking  a  seat  inside,  where 
we  might  have  been  a  little  more  comfortable. 

We  passed  by  Bassenthwaite  water,  a  most  beautiful  lake, 
about  four  miles  long  and  one  broad.  It  is  encircled  by 
mountains,  the  loftiest  of  which  is  Skiddaw,  the  highest 
mountain  in  England.  For  nearly  a  mile  our  road  lay  along 
the  side  of  the  lake,  and  through  the  o'erhanging  trees  we 
caught  many  glimpses  of  the  water,  as  it  sparkled  in  the 
early  rays  of  the  sun. 


394  LETTERS. 

The  remainder  of  the  ride  was  not  remarkably  interesting. 
The  country  was  hilly  and  not  much  cultivated.  We  rode 
through  Cockermouth,  a  small  town  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Cocker  into  the  Derwent.  The  principal  street  was  quite 
wide,  but  the  houses  were  poor  looking.  On  an  artificial 
mount  outside  the  town  were  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  cas- 
tle, originally  the  residence  of  the  Lords  of  Allerdale. 

In  going  through  a  little  village  we  saw  over  a  shop  door 
the  sign  of  "  Betty  Martin."  Query,  is  it  the  "  High  Betty 
Martin  "  of  nursery  memory. 

At  an  inn  where  we  stopped,  J.  saw  one  of  the  old  school 
clergymen.  He  was  sitting  at  a  little  table,  as  jolly  as  could 
be  with  his  mug  of  ale  before  him,  and  his  pipe  in  his 
mouth.  We  saw  the  church  in  which  he  preaches.  Truly 
he  must  be  an  edifying  parish  priest. 

We  passed  through  Wigton,  a  small  village,  but  yester- 
day in  all  the  bustle  of  a  market-day.  In  the  principal 
streets  were  shambles,  on  which  were  displayed,  as  usual  on 
such  occasions,  not  only  provisions,  but  all  kinds  of  cloth- 
ing needful  for  the  body.  Generally  market  days  are  held 
twice  a  week  in  these  small  villages,  at  which  time  the 
country  people  come  in  with  their  produce,  and  the  whole 
neighborhood  turns  out,  either  as  buyers  or  sellers. 

Carlisle  is  quite  a  large  town,  but  a  miserably  smoky 
place.  I  declare  I  get  out  of  all  patience  with  such  nasty 
air.  It  stuffs  my  throat  and  my  lungs,  and  keeps  my  head 
full  of  aches  and  pains  all  the  time  And  this  is  not  all. 
I  cannot  come  in  from  walking  without  finding  two  or  three 
"  beauty  spots  "  on  my  face,  and  if  by  chance  1  leave  a 
letter  or  my  journal  on  my  table  near  an  open  window,  in 
a  few  minutes  the  fair  page  is  covered  with  fine  specks. 
And  this  dust  and  dirt  are  so  saturated  with  moisture  that 
they  stick  to  you  like  a  plaster.  Now  don't  think  I  am 
jesting,  or  that  I  needlessly  complain  of  these  little  annoy- 
ances, I  am  giving  you  the  plain,  unvarnished  truth. 

The  principal  object  of  interest  to  us  in  Carlisle  was  the 


LETTERS.  395 

old  castle.  Within  the  enclosure  of  its  wall  are  several 
different  buildings,  mostly  used  as  barracks.  In  one  of  the 
towers  there  is  a  very  deep  well,  dug  to  supply  the  garrison 
with  water.  Underneath  this  tower  are  the  dungeons,  in 
one  of  which  William  Armstrong  the  freebooter  was  con- 
fined. In  a  prison  in  the  tower  Fergus  Mac  Ivor  was  once 
held  in  durance  vile,  and  in  an  ancient  tower  now  not 
standing,  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  was  imprisoned.  On  the 
top  of  that  tower  was  the  flag-staff,  but  by  its  constant  mo- 
tion, as  it  was  swayed  by  the  wind,  the  foundations  were 
undermined,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  take  down  the 
tower.  One  of  the  workmen  found  within  a  part  of  the 
walls,  the  skeleton  of  a  woman  who  in  some  manner  had 
there  been  fastened  up.  A  part  of  her  dress  which  was  of 
silk,  is  now  in  the  town,  belonging  to  the  wife  of  the  man 
who  made  the  discovery.  This  marvellous  story  we  had 
from  the  soldier  who  guided  us  around  the  castle.  From 
the  battlements  we  had  as  good  a  view  of  the  country 
around,  as  the  almost  impenetrable  state  of  the  atmosphere 
would  permit. 

In  the  town  is  a  fine  old  cathedral,  and  though  our  hearts 
yearned  after  this  noble  monument  of  other  days,  yet  we 
did  not  think  it  expedient  to  stop  to  visit  it.  It  is  said 
there  was  formerly  a  subterranean  passage  from  the  church 
to  the  castle. 

The  court  house  and  jail  are  very  handsome  buildings 
in  the  castellated  style,  and  are  quite  ornamental  to  the 
place.  At  the  inn  where  we  stopped  we  had  a  luncheon 
of  bread  and  butter  and  an  apple-tart,  for  which  we  were 
charged  the  comfortable  sum  of  three  shillings  sixpence. 

From  Carlisle  here,  a  distance  of  sixty  miles,  we  came 
by  railroad.  I  should  think  the  country  might  be  fine  be- 
tween the  two  places,  but  I  could  see  but  little  of  it,  being 
hurried  along  so  fast,  and  then  too  the  air  was  so  thick,  we 
could  have  seen  nothing,  if  we  had  gone  ever  so  slowly. 
We    however  made  out   to  see    some   majestic  ruins,  and 


96  LETTERS. 

handsome  villas,  and  to  get  several  views  of  the  Tyne,  a 
pretty  river. 

At  the  different  stations  on  the  road  are  beautiful  houses, 
all  in  the  Gothic  style,  though  no  two  I  believe  are  alike. 
Since  leaving  Keswick,  we  have  seen  men  and  boys  wearing 
large  plaids  over  their  shoulders.  And  as  for  understanding 
any  thing  we  hear,  we  might  as  well  be  in  Germany  as  here, 
for  every  body  around  us  speaks  such  a  peculiar  lingo,  that 
it  is  difficult  to  find  out  what  is  meant.  Yesterday  morning 
we  had  a  sociable  old  gentleman  on  the  top  of  the  coach 
with  us,  (quite  different  from  the  generality  of  the  English, 
who  never  vouchsafe  to  give  you  a  word  of  information.) 
He  sat  next  to  me,  and  kept  pointing  out  different  objects 
of  interest  to  us,  yet  I  could  not  understand  one  word  in 
twenty  that  he  said,  so  I  answered  at  cross  purposes,  saying 
**  Yes,"  when  I  judged  from  the  expression  of  his  face  that 
I  ought  to  have  said  "  No  ;  "  and  finally,  to  put  an  end  to 
my  embarrassment  I  feigned  sleep,  for  I  did  not  like  to  tell 
him  that  it  was  useless  to  expend  so  much  breath  on  me,  as 
I  could  not  understand  what  he  said. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  adventures  of  this  day.  You 
cannot  guess  where  we  have  been,  neither  shall  I  leave  you 
long  in  suspense,  for  if  I  do,  some  of  your  will  be  peeping 
farther  down  the  page  to  find  out  for  yourselves.  So  to  the 
point  at  once ;  it  was  down  into  a  coal  pit,  nearly  five  hun- 
dred feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth !  Perhaps  it  was 
not  so  romantic  or  fatiguing  a  journey  as  climbing  up  Vesu- 
vius, not  so  classical  as  visiting  the  disinterred  cities  of 
Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  but  certainly  as  hazardous,  and 
indeed  requiring  more  courage  than  either. 

But  I  must  begin,  prosy  like,  at  the  commencement,  or 
else  I  shall  never  get  through.  We  sent  to  the  office  of  the 
coal  company,  to  get  a  permit  to  visit  the  mines.  This  being 
obtained,  we  found  we  had  to  go  at  least  two  miles,  and  by 
so  circuitous  a  way,  that  our  landlord  said  he  could  not  di- 
rect us,  so  we  took  a  cab.     No  sooner  were  we  out  of  the 


LETTERS.  397 

precincts  of  the  city,  than  we  had  to  pay  one  shillino-  for 
toll,  and  when  we  stopped,  three  for  the  carriage,  so  we 
dismissed  the  man,  choosing  to  walk  back,  as  we  had  the 
whole  day  before  us. 

Arriving  at  the  colliery  and  presenting  our  order,  a  new 
difficulty  arose,  for  the  overseer  told  us  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  us  to  go  down  in  the  clothes  we  had  on.  Now 
our  habiliments  were  none  of  the  best,  but  they  were  the 
very  best  we  had  with  us,  and  as  it  would  be  nearly  a  month 
before  we  could  have  our  trunks,  it  behooved  us  to  take 
good  care  of  them.  To  give  up  going  down  was  not  to  be 
mentioned,  to  spoil  our  clothes  was  equally  disagreeable,  so 
we  stood  looking  at  each  other,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  till 
at  last  the  overseer  relieved  our  anxiety  by  offering  to  lend 
J.  some  clothes.  "  But  then  the  lady,"  (me  you  know), 
"  what  could  she  do?  "  "  Oh,"  I  told  him,  "  any  old  dress 
will  do  for  me."  So  he  invited  us  into  his  house,  and  called 
his  wife  to  my  assistance,  but  when  I  saw  her,  a  bouncing, 
fat  woman,  I  groaned  aloud,  for  I  saw  no  prospect  of  any 
of  her  clothes  fitting  me.  However,  after  a  little  consulta- 
tion, J.  disappeared  at  one  door,  and  I  at  another.  Shall  I 
describe  my  appearance  !  Ah  !  I  almost  fear  that  "  words 
of  utterance"  will  fail  me,  as  a  lady  said  when  attempting 
to  describe  Niagara.  The  old  lady  brought  out  a  dark  cal- 
ico dress,  which  sat  as  loosely  as  possible  upon  me.  Then 
she  insisted  on  my  putting  on  one  of  her  clean  caps,  with  a 
wide,  stiff,  double  border,  which  projected  at  least  six  inches 
from  my  face  ;  and  as  though  this  was  not  enough  to  render 
me  irresistible,  she  gave  me  a  black  silk  bonnet,  the  front 
quite  a  half  yard  deep,  and  which  stuck  right  up  in  the  air 
after  the  fashion  of  the  old  *'  sky  scrapers,"  thus  bringing 
my  face  with  its  cap  border  in  full  view.  Now,  however 
little  this  costume  might  have  become  me,  I  thought  it  still 
less  becoming  to  find  fault  with  it  before  the  nice  old  lady, 
who  in  the  kindness  of  her  heart  brought  out  her  best  attire 
for  the  stranger,  so  I  made  no  remark  on  my  appearance, 
34 


LETTERS. 

except  just  saying  that  older  and  more  common  clothes 
would  answer,  and  stealing  one  look  in  the  glass  at  my  cap 
border,  I  went  down  stairs.  But  when  I  saw  J.,  my  feelings 
could  no  longer  be  restrained,  and  I  laughed  long  and  loud, 
and  the  overseer  and  his  wife  heartily  joined  me.  No  de- 
scription can  do  justice  to  his  appearance.  The  overseer  is 
a  large  portly  man,  and  as  J.  is  not  among  the  great  of  the 
earth,  he  looked  as  comical  as  possible.  He  wore  a  short 
jacket  (which  was  any  thing  but  short  on  him)  and  pants  of 
blue  broadcloth,  which  did  not  begin  to  fit  him.  On  his 
head  he  wore  a  little  cap,  and  altogether  his  whole  appear- 
ance was  such,  that  I  could  not  refrain  from  laughing 
every  time  I  looked  at  him.  But  you  may  be  assured  that 
as  we  neared  the  opening  to  the  mines,  and  saw  the  square 
bucket  ascend,  and  knew  that  in  that  little  thing  we  must 
descend  into  the  inner  regions  of  the  earth,  personal  ap- 
pearance was  the  last  object  of  thought.  For  a  moment  I 
drew  back,  and  said  "  I  cannot  go,"  but  my  invincible  cu- 
riosity and  perseverance  led  me  on,  and  with  a  quick,  though 
trembling  step,  I  took  my  place  in  the  bucket  beside  J., 
and  opposite  the  overseer.  The  signal  was  given,  and  we 
began  to  move,  quicker  andj  quicker ;  darker  and  still 
darker  it  grew,  closer  and  still  more  oppressive  was  the  air, 
and  I  felt  sick  and  faint,  but  will  you  believe  me,  even  then 
the  thought  of  our  ludicrous  appearance  came  to  my  mind, 
and  I  laughed  out.  In  a  moment  we  were  down.  The 
bucket  was  filled  with  coals,  and  was  again  creaking  up. 
And  what  a  sight  did  we  have  to  repay  us  for  our  trouble  ! 
The  low  arched  passages  were  faintly  lit  with  here  and 
there  a  glimmering  taper,  while  the  dark  forms  and  dingy 
faces  of  the  miners  added  gloominess  to  the  scene. 

My  eyes  soon  became  accustomed  to  the  strange  light, 
and  then  I  began  to  take  pleasure  in  looking  about  me, 
and  in  gleaning  all  the  information  I  could  from  the  over- 
seer, or  "  reviewer,"  as  he  is  here  called,  though  I  found  it 
somewhat  difficult  to  understand  him. 


LETTERS.  399 

The  substance  of  my  in  formation  is  as  follows.  This 
mine  extends  more  than  three  (juarters  of  a  mile  in  len<^th, 
going  directly  under  the  Tyne.  The  coal  lies  in  layers 
about  two  feet  deep,  and  is  very  thick.  One  hundred  and 
forty  men  nnd  boys  are  here  employed,  and  each  one  has 
daily  Iiis  allotted  portion  of  work,  say  twelve  or  fifteen  feet. 
He  digs  under  the  layer,  puts  in  a  little  powder,  and  blows 
it  up.  Boys  then  take  it  in  their  carts,  carry  it  to  the  open- 
ing of  the  i)it,  where  it  is  put  in  the  bucket  and  drawn  up. 
duite  as  singidar  a  feature  as  any  in  this  subterranean  place, 
was  the  horses.  Fifteen  are  constantly  kept  there.  Their 
legs  are  tied  together,  and  they  are  then  put  into  the  bucket 
and  lowered  down  to  the  mines,  and  are  never  taken  back 
again,  unless  some  accident  overtakes  them.  In  one  part 
of  the  mine  are  their  stalls,  and  by  means  of  a  pipe,  fresh 
water  is  conveyed  down  for  their  use.  The  air  was  not  at 
all  bad;*  a  large  fire  is  kept  burning  night  and  day,  to 
counteract  the  effect  <^f  the  dampness,  and  there  are  large 
openings  in  the  surface  of  the  earth,  so  that  the  noxious 
vapors  are  carried  off. 

Every  thing  went  on  in  perfect  order  while  we  were  there  ; 
each  one  was  busy  with  his  work,  though  I  thought  at  first 
the  miners  looked  at  me  rather  steadily,  but  wliether  in  ad- 
miration of  my  cap  or  of  my  courage,  I  could  not  tell,  for  I 
suppose  many  of  them  never  before  saw  a  femah;  there, 
indeed  only  five  or  six  have  ever  been  down,  and  but  Uiw 
men,  excepting  those  connected  with  the  mines;  and  the 
overseer  told  me  that  .several  gentlemen  in  going  down,  had 
been  quite  ov(trcome  with  fear,  so  you  see  I  may  pride 
myself  in  having  more  courage  than  some  of  the  stronger 
sex. 

But  I  have  got  away  from  my  coal  subject.  The  work 
goes  on  night  and  day,  the  men  being  changed  three  times, 
and  the  boys  twice  in  twenty-four  hours.  The  boys  seemed 
happy,  for  they  sang  and  whistled  very  cheerily,  as  they 
drove  their  horses  along.     From  twenty-five  to  thirty  thou- 


400  LETTERS. 

sand  chaldrons  of  coal  are  produced  every  year  from  this 
mine,  the  duty  is  fourteen  or  fifteen  shillings  a  chaldron. 

After  staying  down  an  hour,  we  once  more  took  our 
places  in  the  bucket,  without  any  trepidation  on  my  part, 
though  I  knew  the  slightest  disarrangement  in  the  ma- 
chinery would  be  fatal  to  us.  Around  the  entrance  to  the 
mine  are  good  houses  for  the  miners,  and  for  the  rent,  with 
the  use  of  as  much  coal  as  they  can  burn,  they  have  to  pay 
but  a  shilling  a  month. 

When  we  got  to  the  reviewer's  house  we  found  water  and 
every  convenience  for  becoming  ourselves  again,  and  after 
we  had  undergone  our  metamorphosis,  the  good  wife  brought 
out  some  crackers  and  wine  which  she  pressed  us  to  par- 
take. Neither  she  nor  her  husband  would  take  any  re- 
muneration for  their  trouble,  so  we  sat  a  half  hour  with 
them  trying  by  the  agreeableness  of  our  conversation  to 
make  all  the  returns  we  could  for  their  kindness."  Worthy 
people !  I  wish  I  could  have  given  them  some  more  tangible 
proof  of  my  gratitude. 

We  had  a  comfortable  walk  back  to  town,  and  instead  of 
coming  directly  to  our  rooms,  walked  about  the  different 
streets,  so  that  we  might  see  all  that  was  worthy  of  regard. 
The  old  and  lower  part  of  the  town  is  as  dirty  and  ugly 
looking  as  possible.  The  houses  look  as  though  built  "  in 
the  year  one."  And  so  many  narrow  alleys  and  lanes  I  never 
saw  before  in  any  one  town.  In  this  part  of  the  town  is  the 
castle  built  in  the  time  of  William  I.  It  is  an  antique  look- 
ing affair.  Not  far  from  this  is  the  Church  of  St.  Nicholas, 
the  spire  of  which  is  very  curious,  being  finished  off  in  the 
shape  of  an  imperial  crown. 

The  higher  and  newer  streets  are  very  handsome ;  they 
are  quite  wide,  and  are  lined  with  fine  houses,  many  of 
which  are  adorned  with  Ionic  pillars.  Indeed  some  of  the 
houses  would  not  discredit  London.  Grey  street,  in  which 
our  hotel  (the  Turk's  Head)  stands,  is  an  elegant  street ; 
at  the  upper  end  of  it  there  is  a  large  monument  erected  to 


LETTERS.  401 

Lord  Grey,  crowned  with  a  statue  of  that  nobleman.  The 
theatre  opposite  to  us  is  adorned  with  a  noble  portico. 

Newcastle  is  a  place  of  considerable  business.  There  is 
a  good  deal  of  shipping  here,  and  a  brisk  trade  always  in 
coal.  In  one  year  eight  hundred  thousand  chaldrons  were 
exported.  There  are  two  bridges  over  the  Tyne,  one  of 
nine  arches,  and  the  other  a  suspension  bridge. 

And  now  dear ,  I  wish  you  once  more  good  night,  and 

may  you  sleep  as  well  after  this  long  letter,  as  I  doubtless 
shall,  for  I  have  slept  most  soundly  and  refreshingly  ever 
since  I  left  the  fleay  district  in  Italy.  Indeed,  I  have 
nothing  to  ask  for,  I  enjoy  good  health,  have  a  good  appe- 
tite, and  am  happy  and  cheerful  all  the  day,  and  need  only 
to  see  your  dear  faces  once  more  to  make  me  almost  wild 
with  joy. 

"  Fly  swiftly  rouad  ye  wheels  of  time, 
And  bring  the  welcome  day." 


Melrose,  Sept.  10. 
My  dearest  F.: 

Behold  us  now  in  Scotia's  land,  the  land  rich  in  historic 
and  poetic  lore,  the  land  of  Scott  and  Burns  and  Wilson, 
and  a  host  of  other  worthies. 

We  left  Newcastle  yesterday  afternoon,  and  arrvied  here 
late  last  evening,  the  distance  being  seventy  miles.  Judge  hov/ 
pleasant  the  ride  was  to  us,  when  I  tell  you  that  we  rode  on 
the  outside  of  the  coach,  in  a  pouring  rain  nearly  all  the  time. 
The  inside  was  full,  so  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  brave 
as  well  as  possible  **  the  peltmgs  of  the  pitiless  storm."  The 
country  was  tame  and  rather  uninteresting,  our  way  often 
lying  over  barren  heaths,  though  occassionally  we  saw  a  fer- 
tile spot.  Thirty  miles  from  Newcastle  we  passed  through 
Otterburn,  a  pretty  little  village,  with  a  grand  old  castle, 
now  used  as  a  jail.  We  stopped  at  O.  to  dine,  though  not 
34* 


402  LETTERS. 

more  than  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  were  allowed  us  for  din- 
ner. And  you  know  how  much  the  English  talk  about 
Americans  eating  so  rapidly.  A  mile  beyond  this  village 
the  celebrated  battle  of  Chevy  Chace  took  place. 

After  toiling  up  a  long,  steep  hill  called  Carter  Fell,  a 
part  of  the  range  of  Cheviot  hills,  we  came  into  Scotland. 
It  was  however  so  dark,  we  could  see  nothing  of  the  country, 
except  by  the  light  of  the  coach  lamps.  By  these  we  were 
enabled  to  see  that  we  were  passing  through  picturesque 
scenes,  our  road  often  being  through  woods,  the  branches 
of  the  trees  meeting  over  our  heads.  We  regretted  that  the 
ride  must  be  taken  at  night,  particularly  when  we  rode 
through  the  village  of  Jedburgh,  and  saw  the  ruins  of  an  old 
abbey ;  however  we  had  to  come  at  night  or  not  at  all. 

We  came  in  the  mail  coach,  consequently  had  a  guard 
mounted  behind,  whose  duty  it  is  to  blow  a  horn  before 
coming  to  a  posthouse,  that  a  change  of  horses  may  be  all 
ready,  and  to  keep  cows,  children,  and  other  hindrances 
out  of  the  road,  so  in  addition  to  the  coachman  we  had  him 
to  fee.  It  is  bad  enough  to  have  to  pay  a  coachman  every 
twenty  or  thirty  miles,  but  when  a  guard  is  added  it  is 
doubly  vexatious.  However,  as  it  is  the  custom  of  the  • 
country,  it  will  do  no  good  to  complain. 

We  have  had  quite  enough  to  excite  our  enthusiasm  to- 
day, as  you  will  easily  imagine  when  you  hear  our  adven- 
tures related.  Immediately  after  breakfast,  we  started  for 
Abbotsford,  about  four  miles  from  here.  The  country  was 
pleasant,  though  not  so  very  beautiful  as  I  expected  to  find 
it.  There  was  however  a  variety  of  hill  and  dale,  enlivened 
by  the  meander ings  of  the  Tweed.  So  very  secluded  is 
Abbotsford,  that  we  did  not  see  it  till  we  were  directly 
before  it.  After  we  entered  the  grounds,  we  rode  a  lit- 
tle distance  through  woods  growing  in  wild  luxuriance, 
then  passing  through  an  arched  gateway,  we  found  our- 
selves in  the  circular  gravel  walk  in  front  of  the  house. 
It  is  a  much  handsomer  building  than  I  expected  to  see. 


LETTERS.  403 

It  is  two  stories  high,  and  is  built  of  light  grey  stone  in  the 
castellated  order.  The  roof  is  turreted,  and  even  the 
chimnies  are  finished  off  in  Gothic  style.  There  is  an  air 
of  perfect  neatness  and  chasteness  about  it,  and  the  interior 
fully  justifies  the  expectations  awakened  by  the  exterior,  for 
there  proofs  are  seen  of  Sir  Walter's  taste  both  in  the  col- 
lection and  arrangement  of  the  articles. 

We  entered  through  a  portico,  adorned  with  the  petrified 
horns  of  stags,  into  a  hall  considered  by  some  the  finest 
room  in  the  house.  The  walls  are  paneled  with  carved  oak 
from  the  palace  of  Dunfermline.  Around  the  cornices  are 
painted  the  coats  of  arms  of  those  who  kept  the  borders 
or  marches.  On  the  walls  are  hung  various  pieces  of 
ancient  armor,  and  implements  of  warfare.  There  is  a 
beautiful  fireplace,  the  arch  of  which  was  copied  from  one 
in  Melrose  Abbey.  Among  the  interesting  relics  here  seen, 
are  the  keys  of  the  tolbooth,  (the  old  prison  of  Edinburgh,) 
and  the  pulpit  from  which  Erskine  preached. 

From  the  hall  we  passed  through  a  narrow  passage,  arched 
in  imitation  of  one  of  the  aisles  in  Melrose  Abbey,  to  the 
armory.  This  is  filled  with  coats  of  mail,  warlike  instru- 
ments, and  other  objects  of  interest,  all  once  belonging  to 
celebrated  personages.  I  can  recollect  now  but  few  things  ; 
the  gun  of  Rob  Roy,  having  his  initials  upon  it,  the  slipper 
ofTippoo  Saib,  a  sword  presented  to  Sir  Walter  by  the 
Celtic  Society,  Sir  Walter's  own  pistols,  and  many  other 
things  which  I  regret  that  I  did  not  note  down  at  the  time. 

We  visited  the  breakfast,  dining,  and  drawing-rooms ;  all 
having  antique  looking  furniture,  and  windows  of  stained 
glass.  In  the  drawing-room  there  is  a  set  of  ebony  chairs, 
presented  by  George  IV.  ;  and  in  the  library,  a  splendid 
cabinet  of  the  like  materials,  from  the  same  monarch.  The 
dining-room  has  a  ceiling  of  black  oak  richly  carved.  It 
contains  a  good  collection  of  paintings  ;  amongst  which  are 
portraits  of  Nell  Gwynne,  and  of  Sir  Walter's  great  grand- 
father, who  never  trimmed  his  beard  after  the  execution  of 
Charles  I. 


404  LETTERS. 

Among  other  curiosities,  we  saw  a  chair  made  from  the 
wood  of  the  barn,  in  which  Wallace  was  betrayed  into  the 
hands  of  his  enemies.  And  now  we  come  to  the  library,  a 
splendid  room,  with  a  ceiling  of  carved  oak.  There  are 
about  twenty  thousand  volumes  neatly  arranged  in  cases. 
Over  the  fireplace  is  a  full-length  portrait  of  the  present  Sir 
Walter,  now  in  India.  Adjoining  the  library  is  the  study, 
to  me  the  most  interesting  room  of  all.  I  felt  like  one  who 
visits  the  favorite  room  of  a  dear  friend,  now  no  more,  and 
sees  his  books,  his  chair,  and  table  just  as  he  left  them, 
every  thing,  indeed,  having  the  impress  of  that  friend's  hand. 
Such  were  my  sensations,  as  I  stood  within  the  little  room 
where  Walter  Scott  wrote  the  most  of  his  works,  and  as  I 
gazed  around,  I  could  scarcely  repress  the  rising  tears. 
There  was  his  table,  and  on  it  his  inkstand  and  pen ;  and 
before  it  his  large  arm-chair,  and  a  little  footstool  covered 
with  some  kind  of  a  skin.  In  cases  around  the  room  were 
his  favorite  authors.  A  light  staircase  leads  to  a  gallery  that 
runs  around  the  room,  communicating  with  his  dressing- 
room  ;  so  that  he  could  pass  at  once  into  his  study  in  the 
morning,  without  risk  of  meeting  any  of  the  visitors  with 
which  his  house  was  generally  thronged.  A  double  window 
served  to  shut  out  all  noise ;  and  there,  in  that  quiet,  secluded 
retreat,  the  poet  and  the  novelist  gave  the  full  rein  to  his 
imagination. 

In  a  small  closet  out  of  the  study  are  the  clothes  Sir 
Walter  last  wore.  The  coat  is  of  dark  green  cloth,  and  the 
vest  and  pantaloons  of  black  and  white  plaid,  and  over  them 
hung  a  broad  brimmed  white  hat.  Near  by  were  his  boots, 
with  his  hatchet  and  hammer,  which  last  he  always  wore 
buckled  around  his  waist  whenever  he  went  into  the  woods. 
Need  I  say  how  interesting  such  relics  were  to  us  ?  We 
could  have  lingered  for  hours  in  the  library  and  study,  but 
the  housekeeper's  impatient  gestures  plainly  said,  "  I  wish 
you  would  hurry,"  and  so  we  left  Abbotsford,  doubtless 
forever. 


LETTERS.  405 

After  we  came  back  here,  we  stopped  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  went  to  Dryburgh  Abbey,  four  miles  off  in  another 
direction.  We  had  grand  views  of  the  surrounding  country, 
as  we  ascended  a  steep  hill.  At  a  little  distance  from  the 
road,  we  saw  a  colossal  statue,  or  "statute"  as  our  driver 
persisted  in  calling  it,  of  Wallace,  erected  by  the  Earl  of 
Buchan.  We  intended  paying  it  a  visit,  but  the  rain  coming 
on  prevented  us.  We  were  obliged  to  leave  our  carriage  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tweed,  and  to  be  ferried  over  that  stream, 
as  the  pretty  little  suspension  bridge  had  been  blown  down. 
We  had  a  quiet  walk  of  three  quarters  of  a  mile,  and  then 
we  reached  the  abbey.  It  is  in  the  grounds  of  the  Earl 
of  Buchan,  and  is  an  interesting  relic  of  days  gone  by. 
Trees  have  sprung  up  within  the  once  hallowed  enclosure, 
and  even  o'ertop  the  mouldering  roof;  ivy  and  moss  cover 
the  decaying  walls.  A  portion  of  a  staircase  still  remains  ; 
and  by  it  we  clambered  up  to  a  part  of  the  roof,  where  we 
walked  upon  sod  as  though  we  were  on  the  very  earth. 

In  one  of  the  aisles  lie  Sir  Walter  Scott  and  his  lady:  No 
stone  tells  their  last  resting-place  ;  no  sod  even  covers  their 
remains.  And  yet  they  need  no  monument.  Among  these 
lonely  ruins,  overgrown  with  the  creeping  ivy,  where  the 
Tweed  flows  quietly  by  the  remains  of  former  days,  is  a  fit 
sepulchre  for  Walter  Scott. 

The  room  called  the  Chapter  House  still  remains  entire. 
It  contains  a  great  number  of  busts  in  plaster  of  eminent 
individuals,  both  of  ancient  and  modern  times.  This  abbey 
must  have  been  an  extensive  building  in  its  day,  for  it  is 
quite  a  walk  to  get  around  it. 

Again  we  were  ferried  across  the  Tweed,  here  a  wide, 
rapid  river.  It  winds  beautifully  through  the  country  ;  its 
pretty,  rural  banks  forming  one  of  the  most  pleasing  features 
of  the  landscape. 

Although  it  rained  fast  when  we  got  back,  we  were  once 
more  tempted  out ;  and  this  time  to  see  the  far-famed  Melrose 
Abbey,  now  a  complete,  though  majestic  ruin.     The  choir, 


406  LETTERS. 

part  of  the  walls  of  the  tower,  a  portion  of  the  nave,  and 
nearly  the  whole  of  the  side  aisles  are  yet  standing.  At  the 
upper  end  of  the  choir  is  a  beautiful  Gothic  window.  The 
pillars  which  formerly  supported  the  roof  have  richly  sculp- 
tured capitals,  and  the  cornices  of  the  ceiling  are  covered 
with  ancient  carvings.  The  aisles  are  narrow  with  elegant 
arches.  Grass  has  sprung  up  within  "  the  court  of  the  house 
of  the  Lord,"  though  there  are  not  as  many  trees  around  as 
at  Dryburgh.  I  cannot  imagine  any  thing  more  touching 
than  these  ruins,  though  we  saw  them  under  great  disadvan- 
tages, for  the  rain  was  pouring  down  all  the  time  we  were 
there,  and  as  we  were  without  shelter,  and  had  to  walk 
through  the  long  grass,  our  enthusiasm  was  rather  dampened, 
still  we  lingered  and  rambled  about,  going  even  across  the 
churchyard  to  get  a  good  view  of  the  whole  building.  Scott 
says,  — 

"  If  thou  wouldst  view  fair  Melrose  aright, 

Go,  visit  it  by  pale  moonlight ; 

For  the  gay  beams  of  lightsome  day, 

Gild  but  to  flout  the  ruins  grey :  " 

but  as  there  is  no  moon  just  now,  we  were  obliged  to  "  visit 
it"  by  daylight;  but  as  the  day  was  not  very  "lightsome," 
"  the  ruins  grey  "  were  not  gilded,  but  had  a  dark  and  sombre 
hue,  which  well  became  them.  Within  the  abbey  many 
distinguished  persons  have  been  buried ;  among  whom  are 
Alexander  II.,  James  the  Earl  of  Douglass,  who  fell  at  the 
battle  of  Chevy  Chace,  and  several  other  members  of  the 
Douglass  family.  Here  also,  it  is  said,  the  heart  of  Robert 
Bruce  was  deposited.  In  the  nave  are  some  fragments  of 
pillars,  and  there  Sir  Walter  used  to  sit,  when  he  came  to 
"  fair  Melrose." 

And  now  that  I  have  given  you  the  records  of  the  past 
two  days,  may  I  not  be  allowed  to  retire  once  more  out  of 
sight?     As  always  yours. 


LETTERS.  407 

Edinburgh,  September  13lh. 
Dear  P.  : 

At  length  we  are  in  the  metropolis  of  Scotland,  and  a  fine 
city  it  is  too,  I  can  assure  you.  We  arrived  here  Saturday 
noon,  having  had  a  pleasant  though  cool  ride  from  Melrose. 
The  first  part  of  the  way,  the  country  was  delightful,  the 
road  winding  through  the  valley  of  the  Tweed.  We  had  a 
fine  view  of  Abbotsford,  as  it  lifted  its  turreted  head  above 
the  dark  w^oods  that  surround  it.  A  few  miles  from  Melrose, 
we  passed  through  the  village  of  Galashiels,  a  neat  little 
place,  celebrated  for  its  manufactories  of  woollen  goods,  par- 
ticularly shawls,  a  plenty  of  which  of  all  colors  was  hung  out 
to  dry.  The  remainder  of  the  ride,  we  did  not  find  so  pleas- 
ant. The  country  was  hilly,  and  not  very  fertile.  It  grew 
however  more  beautiful  and  better  cultivated  as  we  neared 
this  city.  We  passed  some  handsome  estates,  amono-st 
which  was  Lord  Melville's  seat,  where  George  IV.  stopped 
when  in  Scotland.  We  are  at  Mrs.  Elder's,  No.  5,  Albany 
street,  a  quiet  boarding  place,  where  we  already  feel  quite 
at  home. 

Yesterday  morning  we  went  to  the  Presbyterian  place 
of  worship  with  Miss  E.  expecting  to  hear  Dr.  Muis,  a 
celebrated  preacher,  but  he  did  not  "  hold  forth."  Not 
being  very  well,  having  taken  cold  in  our  rambles  about 
Melrose,  I  spent  the  most  of  the  day  in  my  own  room.  J. 
went  in  the  afternoon  to  hear  Dr.  Chalmers,  but  as  usual 
was  disappointed,  the  Dr.  not  preaching. 

To-day  we  began  the  duties  of  sight-seeing,  and  began 
too  at  an  hour  unusual  with  me,  for  we  started  two  hours 
before  breakfast,  going  to  the  hill,  or  mountain  I  should  say, 
named  Arthur's  Seat.  It  rises  eight  hundred  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,  overtops  all  the  surrounding  hills,  and  of 
course  commands  a  good  view,  not  only  of  the  city,  but  of  the 
adjacent  country.  A  little  below  the  summit  is  a  ridge  of 
bold  and  precipitous  rocks,  called  Salisbury  Crags.  Not 
knowing  the  path  to  Arthur's  Seat,  we  went  up  by  the  crags, 


408  LETTERS. 

thus  making  the  walk  doubly  long  and  fatiguing,  for  from 
the  crags  we  had  actually  to  climb  to  reach  the  seat,  whereas 
if  we  had  gone  the  right  way,  we  should  have  found  a  good 
path  leading  to  the  very  top. 

From  this  spot  so  elevated,  we  had  a  grand  view,  although 
the  air  was  rather  thick  and  smoky,  however  we  saw  enough 
to  compensate  us  for  our  labor.  Need  I  say  that  Edinburgh  is 
situated  on  the  Frith  of  Forth,  and  that  it  is  divided  into  two 
parts,  the  old  and  the  new  town  ?  Every  child  that  has  ever 
studied  geography  knows  this  ;  I  merely  put  it  down  here 
that  my  after  remarks  may  be  better  understood.  The  old 
town  is  situated  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  and  is  separated  by  a 
ravine  from  the  new,  and  there  never  could  be  a  more 
striking  contrast  between  two  cities  than  between  these  two 
divisions  of  this  one  town.  The  houses  of  the  old  town  are 
high  and  ancient  looking,  those  of  the  new  of  moderate 
height,  modern,  chaste,  and  elegant.  But  of  this  more  anon. 
From  Arthur's  Seat,  the  two  are  too  closely  blended  together 
to  allow  these  peculiarities  to  be  noticed,  and  the  whole  pre- 
sents a  fine  view.  The  clusters  of  houses  are  varied  by 
handsome  spires  stretching  up  from  all  parts  of  the  city.  In 
front  lies  the  Frith  studded  with  rocky  islets,  and  having 
high  ranges  of  hills  on  either  side,  while  farther  on  the 
waters  expand  into  the  broad  sea.  Behind,  the  country  is 
varied  with  hill  and  dale  and  rocks  and  woods,  and  skirted 
by  the  bold  range  of  Pentland  Hills.  Below  is  Calton  Hill, 
adorned  with  monuments  and  statues,  amongst  which  is  a 
huge  monument  to  Nelson,  in  the  form  of  a  tower  ;  also 
monuments  to  Stewart  and  PI  ay  fair,  the  national  monument, 
erected  in  honor  of  the  victory  of  Waterloo,  intended  to  be  a 
copy  of  the  Parthenon,  but  unfortunately  the  builders  began 
without  counting  the  cost,  and  after  getting  up  twelve 
beautiful  pillars,  were  unable  to  go  any  farther,  so  that  it  has 
remained,  and  may  yet  remain  for  some  time,  *'  in  statu  quo," 
and  a  monument  to  Burns,  in  the  form  of  a  circular  temple, 
within  which  is  the  statue  of  the  poet  by  Flaxman. 


LETTERS.  409 

At  the  foot  of  Arthur's  Seat  is  Holyrood  Castle,  of  which 
I  shall  presently  have  more  to  say.  The  walk  up  this  hill 
was  a  favorite  one  with  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  he  speaks  of 
of  it  in  the  highest  terms  of  praise,  in  the  Heart  of  Mid 
Lothian. 

As  we  came  down,  we  passed  the  ruins  of  St.  Anthony's 
Chapel,  the  place  of  meeting  of  Jeannie  Deans  and  Robert- 
son. We  returned  after  a  long  walk  with  a  more  than 
usually  sharp  appetite  for  breakfast,  after  which  with  un- 
daunted strength  and  energy  we  started  off  again.  Allow 
me  here  to  throw  in  a  few  desultory  remarks  in  relation  to 
this,  the  metropolis  of  Scotland.  The  new  town  is  one  of 
the  finest  places  imaginable.  The  streets  are  wide  and  re- 
markably clean,  the  houses  of  simple  and  in  some  respects 
of  almost  stern  architecture.  In  this  part  the  nobility  and 
higher  classes  of  people  live,  and  so  much  of  the  time  do  they 
stay  from  this,  their  city  abode,  that  most  of  the  streets  are 
quite  grass-grown. 

There  is  nothing  in  Edinburgh  that  strikes  a  stranger 
more  impressively  than  the  high  bridges  thrown  over  some 
of  the  streets,  often  passing  directly  over  the  roofs  of  houses. 

This  might  with  truth  be  called  "  the  monumental  city," 
for  besides  all  the  monuments  on  Calton  Hill,  the  whole  town 
is  sprinkled  over  with  statues  and  monuments.  In  St. 
Andrew's  square,  near  our  house,  is  an  enormous  affair  in 
the  monumental  line,  erected  to  Lord  Melville.  It  is  a 
fluted  pillar  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  feet  in  height,  and 
surmounted  by  a  statue  of  that  nobleman  fourteen  feet  high. 
Near  this  is  the  statue  of  George  IV.,  and  in  front  of  the 
Royal  Bank  there  is  an  equestrian  statue  of  the  Earl  of 
Hopetoun,  and  yet  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  call  it  "  eques- 
trian," as  the  figure  is  not  on  the  horse,  but  standing  beside 
it.  The  horse  is  in  an  attitude  I  have  never  before  seen  in 
marble,  his  head  is  bent  down  and  one  foot  is  raised,  as  if 
in  the  act  of  pawing  the  ground.  It  is  a  magnificent  piece 
of  art,  and  I  never  fail  to  stop  and  admire  it  every  time  I  go 
35 


410  LETTERS. 

by.  In  our  rambles  we  have  passed  still  other  statues,  but 
these  are  all  I  can  particularize  just  now. 

Let  us  come  now  to  the  old  town,  and  cross  one  of  the 
bridges  thrown  over  the  hollow  which  separates  the  two 
towns,  and  pause  a  moment  to  look  down  upon  the  busy 
people  passing  beneath  us.  We  have  now  entered  High 
street,  the  principal  street  of  the  old  town.  Many  of  the 
houses  are  eight  stories  high,  and  some  ten.  From  this 
street  there  are  numberless  narrow  lanes  leading  down  the 
hill ;   these  are  called  "  closes." 

This  morning  we  found  the  streets  full  of  people,  the  most 
of  them  dirty  looking,  and  many  of  them  without  shoes  or 
stockings.  We  passed  St.  Giles'  Church,  a  fine  looking 
edifice  with  a  spire,  like  the  one  I  noticed  in  Newcastle, 
having  the  top  in  the  shape  of  a  crown.  In  the  interior,  this 
beautiful  church  is  divided  into  three  distinct  parts,  so  that 
the  impressive  effect  of  its  architecture  is  wholly  lost. 

Opposite  is  the  Exchange.  Here  we  applied  for  tickets 
to  see  the  Regalia  or  crown  jewels  at  the  castle.  In  the 
room  where  we  went,  there  were  two  small  closets,  the  doors 
barred  and  locked  on  the  outside.  I  thought  they  were 
places  of  deposit  for  books  and  records,  but  hearing  some 
one  coughing  in  one  of  them,  I  soon  found  out  they  were 
depositories  for  live  stock,  in  the  shape  of  those  taken  up  for 
violating  the  laws;  for  presently  an  officer  came,  and  opening 
one  of  the  doors  led  off  a  young  girl,  and  afterwards  from 
the  other  closet  a  man,  and  a  little  while  after,  the  girl  was 
brought  back  again  and  once  more  committed  to  her  place 
of  confinement. 

After  we  got  our  order  we  started  for  the  castle,  but  upon 
looking  at  our  ticket,  we  found  that  it  was  not  to  admit  us  till 
two  o'clock,  and  as  it  was  then  but  twelve,  we  had  ample 
time  to  look  about  us,  not  caring  to  go  home  to  spend  the 
interval  that  awaited  us.  We  returned  to  St.  Giles,  and 
once  more  walked  around  that  venerable  church.  Directly 
back  of  it,  are  the  Parliament  House,  and  buildincrs  contain- 


LETTERS.  411 

ing  public  offices,  all  handsome  edifices,  and  in  the  square 
between  them  and  the  church,  there  is  an  equestrian  statue 
of  Charles  XL 

We  proceeded  down  High  street,  the  lower  part  of  which 
is  called  Canongate,  to  Holyrood  Palace,  a  large  edifice  built 
around  a  court  ninety-four  feet  square,  around  which  runs  a 
colonnade.  The  front  of  the  palace  is  flanked  by  castellated 
towers.  The  rooms,  excepting  those  formerly  occupied  by 
the  unfortunate  Mary  Stuart,  are  exceedingly  common-place, 
having  the  most  ordinary  furniture  imaginable.  The  picture 
gallery  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  but  I  could  scarcely 
restrain  my  mirth  on  seeing  the  pictures.  They  purport  to 
be  portraits  of  all  the  kings  of  Scotland ;  how  faithful  the 
representations  may  be,  I  cannot  tell,  but  as  works  of  art 
they  are  miserable  daubs.  The  fact  seems  to  be,  as  far  as 
one  can  find  out,  that  once  on  a  time  there  were  in  this 
palace,  fine  portraits,  and  as  records  of  the  past  glory  of 
Scotland,  valuable  ones  too,  but  they  were  so  much  injured 
in  the  times  of  Cromwell,  that  it  was  necessary  to  copy  them. 
They  now  look  about  alike,  excepting  that  every  other  one 
had  his  face  turned  to  the  right,  and  the  alternate  ones  to  the 
left.  Indeed,  as  somebody  has  said,  I  know  not  who,  "  They 
appear  to  be  mostly  by  the  same  hand,  painted  either  from 
the  imagination,  or  from  porters  hired  to  sit  for  the  oc- 
casion." 

A  suite  of  apartments  was  then  shown,  occupied  by 
Charles  X.  of  France,  also  the  throne-room  fitted  up  in  1822 
for  George  IV.  who  here  held  his  court.  The  throne  and 
chair  of  state  are  well  enough,  but  the  hangings  are  in  poor 
taste. 

Then  we  came  to  dueen  Mary's  rooms,  furnished  in  an 
antique  style,  and  exactly  as  they  were  in  the  time  of  that 
hapless  sovereign.  There  stands  her  bed,  covered  with  faded 
red  damask,  and  a  chair  is  shown,  as  well  as  several  other 
pieces  of  work,  embroidered  by  her  own  hands.  In  a  little 
room  just  out  of  the  bed-chamber,  Rizzio  was  murdered  by 


412  LETTERS. 

Lords  Darnley  and  Ruthven,  who  entered  the  outer  room 
by  a  private  passage  from  the  chapeh  They  attacked  the 
unfortunate  secretary,  who  was  at  supper  with  the  queen, 
and  dragged  him  to  the  door  of  her  bed-chamber,  where  he 
fell  pierced  with  fifty-six  wounds.  The  blood-stains  yet 
remain,  though  more  than  two  centuries  have  rolled  away 
since  the  foul  murder  was  committed.  You  have  doubtless 
heard  the  story  of  the  travelling  pedlar,  who  visited  this 
palace,  and  on  hearing  this  melancholy  story,  and  seeing  in 
the  dark  stains,  confirmation  sure  of  its  truth,  instantly  threw 
himself  on  his  hands  and  knees,  and  taking  a  bottle  from  his 
pocket,  began  diligently  to  scrub  the  floor,  saying  that  he  had 
a  wash  warranted  to  efface  the  worst  stains  and  spots.  Now 
this  produced  much  consternation  in  the  mind  of  the  worthy 
housekeeper,  who  instantly  commanded  him  to  desist  from 
his  operations,  striving  in  vain  to  make  him  comprehend 
that  a  part  of  her  occupation  would  be  gone,  if  the  stains 
were  removed. 

But  to  return.  This  part  of  the  chamber,  associated  in 
Mary's  mind  with  the  assassination  of  her  favorite  and  devoted 
servant,  was  by  her  orders  partitioned  off,  so  that  it  now 
forms  a  little  room  by  itself  So  deeply  interesting  is  every 
thing  connected  with  the  sad  history  of  the  beauteous  Mary, 
that  we  felt  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  visiting  her  rooms, 
and  in  gazing  upon  the  very  articles  she  oft  had  used.  The 
walls  are  covered  with  tapestry  embroidered  in  small  pieces, 
and  sewed  together  very  skilfully,  the  employment  of  her 
leisure  hours  and  those  of  her  attendants. 

In  spite  of  the  touching  associations  connected  with  this 
ancient  palace,  I  was  obliged  to  hold  my  handkerchief  to  my 
mouth  all  the  time  we  were  there,  to  keep  from  laughing 
right  out,  at  the  pompous  manner  and  studied  sentences  of 
our  female  cicerone.  It  was  as  good  as  a  book  to  see  her, 
and  to  listen  to  her  descriptions  of  the  different  objects  to 
which  she  called  our  attention. 

We  then  went  into  the  chapel  or  abbey  as  it  is  generally 


LETTERS.  413 

called.  It  is  now  in  ruins,  but  a  majestic  ruin  it  is,  and  a 
sad  relic  of  days  gone  by.  One  of  the  side  aisles  yet  re- 
mains, but  the  pillars  of  the  other  were  overthrown  when  the 
roof  fell  in.  It  must  have  been  a  noble  specimen  of  archi- 
tecture in  its  day,  the  pillars  are  large,  and  a  series  of  light 
Gothic  arches  runs  around  the  wall.  Now  all  is  discolored 
by  time  and  the  dampness  of  the  air,  and  the  glory  and 
beauty  of  the  abbey  are  fast  passing  away. 

Many  of  the  Scottish  kings  and  nobles  are  here  buried, 
among  which  is  Lord  Darnley.  Some  say  that  Rizzio 
was  buried  near  the  entrance,  but  it  is  not  certainly  known. 

In  walking  back  up  High  street,  we  made  out,  after  dili- 
gent search,  to  find  the  house  in  which  John  Knox  once  lived. 
It  is  now  rapidly  going  to  decay.  Beneath  the  window  from 
which  he  preached,  there  is  a  rude  statue  of  the  bold  divine. 
The  whole  of  this  part  of  the  town  was  full  of  interest  to  us, 
as  it  is  so  often  mentioned  by  Scott. 

The  castle  stands  at  the  head  of  High  street,  on  a  lofty 
hill.  It  is  literally  founded  on  a  rock,  and  is  of  immense 
strength.  We  only  visited  the  part  in  which  the  regalia  or 
crown  jewels  are  kept,  consisting  of  the  crown,  the  sword 
and  the  sceptre.  The  crown  is  set  with  precious  stones, 
the  sword  was  presented  to  James  IV.  by  Pope  Julian  II., 
and  the  sceptre  is  of  silver  thickly  gilded.  Besides  these, 
there  is  a  gold  collar  of  the  order  of  the  Garter,  presented  by 
Elizabeth  to  James  VI.,  also  the  badge  of  the  order,  some 
small  medals  of  gold  set  in  diamonds,  and  an  elegant  sap- 
phire ring,  the  coronation  ring  of  Charles  I.  These  jewels 
are  greatly  inferior  to  those  at  the  Tower  in  London,  but  as 
emblems  of  the  former  freedom  of  Scotland,  and  as  deeply 
connected  with  her  history,  they  are  interesting. 

We  came  home  through  Prince's  street,  a  handsome  street, 
bordered  on  one  side  by  a  public  garden.  At  one  end  of 
the  street  is  the  Royal  Institute,  built  in  the  Grecian  style, 
and  surrounded  by  an  elegant  portico.  Near  this  is  to  be 
erected  a  noble  monument  to  Walter  Scott. 
35* 


414  LETTERS. 

The  most  of  the  houses  here  are  built  with  a  deep  base- 
ment, and  in  these  basements  are  many  of  the  shops.  The 
sidewalk  is  protected  from  the  area  in  front  of  the  shops  by 
an  iron  railing ;  hence  the  most  of  them  are  at  such  dis- 
tances from  the  footwalk,  as  to  prevent  my  blind  eyes  from 
seeing  to  good  advantage  the  gewgaws  and  furbelows,  the 
toys  and  trinkets,  the  books  and  pictures  displayed  in  the 
windows. 

I  can  assure  you  that  I  was  pretty  nearly  exhausted  when 
I  got  home  after  such  long  rambles.  I  am  not  accustomed 
to  go  out  before  breakfast,  and  I  have  not  been  able  this 
evening  to  take  my  usual  walk. 

Rev.  Mr.  F.  to  whom  we  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  C, 
called  on  us  this  afternoon.  We  are  to  go  with  him  to- 
morrow to  visit  places  to  which  we  might  not  easily  get  ac- 
cess, except  through  the  aid  of  a  well  known  citizen. 

Having  now  nothing  more  to  say,  I  shall  wait  till  another 
time  when  I  can  again  have  something  new  to  tell ;  and  so 
good  bye  to  you. 


Edinbro',  Wednesday  eve. 
My  dear  Friend  : 

I  know  not  how  to  go  to  bed,  till  I  have  given  you  the 
events  of  this  day,  interesting  as  it  has  been  to  us,  but  on 
looking  at  the  date  of  this,  I  find  that  the  history  of  another 
day  is  still  unrecorded,  so  I  have  a  double  task,  and  to  ac- 
complish it  in  a  systematic  and  proper  manner  I  will  begin 
at  once  at  the  right  place,  and  "  first  and  foremost"  tell  you 
where  we  went  yesterday,  and  what  we  did.  At  two  o'clock 
we  went  with  Mr.  F.  to  the  University,  a  large  and  hand- 
some building,  the  front  adorned  with  a  Doric  portico.  At 
either  end  of  the  court  is  another  portico,  and  a  covered 
walk  runs  around  the  whole  court,  elevated  a  few  feet  from 
the  ground.     The  library  is   a  magnificent  room,  one  hun- 


LETTERS.  415 

dred  and  eighty-seven  feet  long,  and  has  an  arched  ceiling 
from  fifty  to  fifty-eight  feet  high,  carved  and  painted  white, 
and  supported  by  square,  fluted  pillars.  There  is  a  small, 
but  good  collection  of  paintings  here. 

We  then  went  to  the  Royal  Infirmary,  or  hospital,  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  places  in  Edinburgh,  as  here  many  of 
the  celebrated  Scottish  physicians  have  commenced  prac- 
tising. 

We  also  went  into  St.  Peter's  chapel,  where  Mr.  F. 
preaches.  The  Presbyterian,  being  the  established  church 
of  Scotland,  its  meeting-houses  are  here  called  churches, 
and  the  Episcopal  churches  take  the  name  of  chapels,  quite 
reversing  the  order  of  things  in  England,  where  all  places 
of  worship  used  by  the  different  denominations  of  Christians 
are  known  only  as  chapels.  St  Peter's  is  a  neat  little  room 
in  the  lower  story  of  a  large  house.  We  went  down  a 
narrow  close,  and  visited  St.  Paul's  chapel,  erected  in  1687. 
It  is  the  oldest  chapel  in  Edinburgh,  and  was  formerly  pat- 
ronized by  the  nobility. 

Behold  us  now  in  the  Parliament  House.  In  the  large 
hall  called  the  "  outer  house  "  the  Scottish  Parliament  met 
before  the  union.  It  is  now  used  for  the  courts,  and  when 
they  are  in  session  presents  an  animated  scene.  It  is  a  fine 
hall,  and  has  an  arched  ceiling  of  oak  well  carved  and 
gilded.  The  windows  are  Gothic,  the  one  at  the  end  of  the 
hall  is  of  painted  glass. 

Adjoining  this  hall  are  four  small  rooms  in  which  sit  the 
Judges  and  Lords  ordinary.  There  are  fifteen  judges,  five 
of  them  sit  in  separate  rooms,  and  five  together  in  deciding 
cases.  From  their  decision,  there  is  an  appeal  to  the  other 
five,  and  from  them  to  the  House  of  Lords.  In  one  of  these 
rooms,  Walter  Scott  was  once  a  clerk. 

Adjoining  Parliament  House  is  the  Advocates'  Library, 
the  largest  and  best  library  in  Scotland,  containing  about 
one  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  volumes.  In  the  prin- 
cipal room  is  a  good  collection  of  Spanish  books,  and  a  Bible 


416  LETTERS. 

written  on  parchment,  and  also  one  of  the  first  Bibles  ever 
printed. 

We  returned  home  with  Mr.  F.  and  dined  there.  His 
house  is  situated  in  George's  square,  a  pretty  retired  square, 
where  the  streets  are  quite  grass-grown.  Near  by,  lived 
Walter  Scott  when  a  boy,  and  the  following  story  is  related 
of  him  as  occurring  at  that  time.  There  were  several  boys 
who  were  very  fond  of  running  their  heads  through  the  iron 
railing,  near  the  house,  but  his  head  was  so  large  it  never 
would  go  through.  It  is  also  said  that  when  he  first  began 
to  plead,  some  one  said  of  him,  "They  say  he  is  a  poet,  but 
he  has  no  utterance,"  meaning  eloquence. 

Mr.  F.  told  me  one  fact  in  relation  to  this  distinguished 
man,  that  I  never  before  heard,  that  he  died  insane,  and 
that  for  three  weeks  before  his  death,  he  had  no  conscious- 
ness of  any  thing  whatever.  He  had  overtasked  the  powers 
of  his  mind  and  his  body  too,  till  both  gave  way  under  such 
repeated  trials,  and  he  died  while  yet  not  an  old  man. 

This  morning  we  went  by  coach  to  Rosslyn,  six  miles 
from  Edinbro',  as  they  call  this  town.  There  was  nothing 
particularly  interesting  in  the  ride,  the  country  was  hilly, 
though  quite  fertile.  Reapers  were  busy  at  their  work,  and 
in  one  field  we  counted  no  less  than  eighty  persons,  mostly 
women. 

We  first  visited  Rosslyn  chapel,  a  beautiful  specimen  of 
Gothic  architecture.  It  was  built  in  1446,  and  in  1688  was 
partially  destroyed,  but  was  soon  after  repaired.  It  is  now 
however  somewhat  in  ruins.  It  was  designed  to  have 
been  built  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  but  the  head  of  the  cross 
only  was  completed.  The  side  aisles  are  much  lower  than 
the  nave,  and  are  separated  from  it  by  large  pillars.  One 
of  the  pillars  is  very  beautiful.  It  is  fluted,  and  then  has 
rows  of  sculptured  figures  twisted  around  it.  This  is  called 
"  the  'Prentice's  Pillar  "  from  the  following  circumstance. 
The  master-builder  of  the  chapel  had  the  designs  of  the 
pillar  from  Rome,  but   after  beginning  it  he  distrusted  his 


LETTERS.  417 

ability  to  finish  it,  and  so  went  to  Rome  to  see  the  one  from 
which  the  model  was  taken.  In  the  meantime  one  of  his 
apprentices  finished  the  pillar  after  the  original  manner, 
which  so  enraged  his  master  on  his  return,  that  he  gave  him 
a  blow  with  his  mallet  and  instantly  killed  him. 

The  arches  of  the  aisles  are  sculptured  in  bas-reliefs,  in 
illustration  of  scriptural  scenes,  which  are  brought  together 
in  rather  ludicrous  juxtaposition.  Thus,  there  are  the 
proud  Pharisee,  the  Publican  with  his  hand  upon  his  breast, 
the  Lord  of  the  vineyard,  and  the  Devil  looking  out  of  an 
alligator's  mouth  and  grinning  at  them  all. 

There  was  formerly  a  private  subterranean  passage  from 
the  chapel  to  the  castle,  now  closed  up. 

The  castle,  like  the  chapel,  is  in  ruins.  The  lower 
stories  are  very  ancient,  but  the  upper  part  is  of  modern 
date.  The  walls  of  the  guard-room  at  the  entrance,  are  six 
feet  thick,  and  are  pierced  with  many  loopholes,  from 
which  arrows  were  sent  out  on  an  invading  foe.  There  are 
two  ranges  of  dungeons,  one  for  state  prisoners,  and  the 
other  for  prisoners  of  war,  the  last  really  comfortable  rooms. 

We  then  went  to  Hawthornden,  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  castle,  a  delightful  walk  along  the  banks  of  the  winding 
Esk.  Here  were  wildness  and  picturesqueness  personified. 
The  stream  in  many  places  ran  between  high  banks  covered 
with  trees,  and  often  over  quite  steep  rocks,  forming  mimic 
cascades.  The  whole  scene  was  wild  and  grand  and  ro- 
mantic, but  I  have  described  so  much  scenery,  that  I  am 
quite  at  a  loss  for  words,  and  should  really  be  glad  to  get 
hold  of  a  dictionary  that  had  in  it  some  other  words  expres- 
sive of  admiration,  than  ''  elegant,"  "  sublime,"  "  beautiful," 
"  magnificent,"  "  charming,"  "  fine,"  "  noble." 

At  Hawthornden,  there  is  a  small  house  upon  a  steep  bank 
overhanging  the  Esk.  The  country  in  its  immediate  neigh- 
borhood is  delightful.  Through  the  thick  woods  upon  the 
banks  of  the  river,  you  catch  many  glimpses  of  the  bright 
waters   of  the  dancing   stream,   and  a  little  rustic  bridge 


418  LETTERS. 

thrown  across  it  still  higher  up,  serves  to  heighten  the  beauty 
of  the  scene. 

This  house  was  the  habitation  of  the  poet  Drummond, 
and  there  is  an  inscription  on  the  w^alls,  that  it  was  repaired 
by  him  in  1688.  It  is  a  well  authenticated  fact  that  Ben 
Jonson,  ("  O  rare  Ben  Jonson!")  walked  from  London  to 
visit  Drummond,  and  here  lived  with  him  several  weeks.  Just 
behind  the  house  there  is  an  excavation  in  which  there  is  a 
seat,  called  Drummond's  Seat,  where  he  used  to  write  all  his 
poetry,  and  a  nice  quiet  place  it  is.  The  moss  hangs  over 
the  roof,  trees  are  all  around,  and  there  is  naught  to  disturb 
the  stillness,  save  the  slight  rippling  of  the  waters  of  the 
Esk. 

Beneath  the  house  are  several  caverns,  the  entrance  to 
which  was  formerly  by  a  deep  well.  One  of  them  has  little 
boxes  cut  in  the  wall,  supposed  by  some  to  have  been  the 
places  where  papers  were  concealed  in  those  tim.es  of  se- 
dition, heresy  and  crime,  but  they  looked  to  us  more  like 
having  been  made  for  wine  bottles. 

Near  the  house  is  a  large  sycamore  tree,  thirty-one  feet 
round,  called  Drummond's  tree.  We  walked  through  the 
park,  down  a  handsome  avenue,  till  we  came  to  the  road, 
and  then  went  two  miles  farther  to  Lasswade,  a  pretty  little 
village  on  the  Esk,  and  so  named,  because  a  young  girl  or 
lass  used  to  wade  across  the  stream,  carrying  on  her  back 
those  who  could  afford  to  travel  by  so  expensive  a  way,  or 
who  did  not  like  to  wade  across  themselves,  there  being 
then  no  bridge.  The  scenes  about  this  village  are  exqui- 
sitely beautiful.  The  Esk  winds  through  a  thickly  wooded 
glen,  while  rich  pastures  and  fertile  meads  are  seen  beyond. 

When  we  got  to  Lasswade,  we  found  that  no  coach  left 
till  six  o'clock,  so  we  had  to  walk  two  miles  farther  to  Dal- 
keith, from  which  there  is  a  rail-road  here.  At  Dalkeith  are 
coal  mines,  (you  may  be  well  assured  we  did  not  stop  to  visit 
them),  and  the  road  was  first  built  merely  for  conveying  the 
coal    to   Edinburgh,  but  now  passenger  cars  are   put  on, 


LETTERS.  419 

though  no  steam  is  used.  I  came  home  most  thoroughly 
tired  out,  though  well  pleased  with  our  day's  journey,  having 
walked  at  least  eight  miles  while  absent ;  but  after  a  good 
dinner  (we  dine  at  six)  I  felt  so  wonderfully  refreshed,  that 
I  ventured  out  again. 

We  walked  along  Prince's  Street,  and  I  was  much  struck 
with  the  sight  presented  by  the  old  town.  As  long  ago  as  I 
studied  Morse's  Geography,  I  learnt  that  in  Edinburgh  there 
were  houses  fourteen  stories  high,  and  I  have  made  it  a 
matter  of  interest  every  time  I  walked  in  the  old  town,  to 
count  the  stories  of  the  highest  houses.  I  have  not  yet 
found  any  having  more  than  eleven,  eight  and  ten  are 
about  the  ordinary  number.  This  evening  every  story  being 
lit,  the  houses  presented  a  fine  scene,  the  highest  lights 
looking  like  stars  in  the  sky. 

At  Edinburgh,  as  in  all  large  towns,  there  are  many  ap- 
pointments "to  the  Queen."  It  seems  that  in  olden  times, 
when  any  particular  tradesmen  were  patronized  by  the  royal 
family,  they  were  exempted  from  taxes,  though  this  is  far 
from  being  the  case  now.  In  addition  to  the  trades  and 
occupations  I  have  already  mentioned,  I  have  seen  "  music 
sellers,"  "  house  painters  and  decorators,"  and  last  and 
queerest  of  all,  *'  brass  founders  and  gas  fitters  to  her 
Majesty." 

One  new  thing  we  have  seen  here,  porters  in  every  street 
having  leather  straps  around  their  waists,  ever  ready  to  carry 
luggage,  and  I  have  seen  one  take  a  large  trunk,  fasten  a 
rope  around  it,  and  then  with  this  rope  over  his  head, 
walk  some  distance.  How  thick  and  hard  their  heads 
must  be. 

I  should  judge  that  the  people  of  this  goodly  town  are 
apt  to  gather  in  crowds  at  any  little  thing,  more  so  than  in 
any  city  we  have  visited.  The  other  day  I  saw  an  immense 
crowd  filling  up  the  street,  and  moving  along  with  measured 
step  and  slow,  and  I,  of  course,  had  some  little  curios- 
ity myself  to  know  what  was  going  on.     After  a  little  inter- 


420  LETTERS. 

val  of  suspense,  I  found  they  were  following  a  woman,  who 
had  had  a  fit  in  the  street.  This  morning  we  saw  another 
crowd  around  some  "  rail  carriages,"  exhibited  in  one  of 
the  streets. 

One  sign  in  Edinburgh  perplexed  me  not  a  little,  having 
the  word  *'  flesher  "  on  it,  and  what  it  could  mean  I  could 
not  at  first  tell.  At  length  after  guessing  and  thinking,  and 
looking  at  the  articles  displayed  for  sale  in  the  shops  bear- 
ing the  peculiar  sign,  I  discovered  that  it  meant  butcher. 

I  have  been  surprised  to-day  to  hear  how  great  are  the 
taxes  in  this  town,  and  indeed  I  have  heard  something  quite 
new  to  me  in  the  way  of  taxes,  that  here,  and  I  suppose  it 
is  the  same  throughout  Great  Britain,  they  are  taxed  for  the 
blessed  light  of  heaven  ;  that  is,  each  house  is  taxed  for 
light  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  windows  it  has.  Mrs. 
E.  where  we  are,  pays  seven  pounds  fourteen  shillings 
a  year  for  this  one  tax.  So  it  is  quite  an  object  to  build 
houses  with  as  few  windows  as  possible.  Mrs.  E.  pays 
seventy  pounds  a  year  for  rent,  and  her  taxes  amount  to 
thirty  more.     Is  it  not  an  expensive  country  to  live  in  ? 

We  have  now,  as  the  tourists  say,  "  done  up "  Edin- 
burgh, and  to-morrow  we  start  for  the  Highlands.  So 
now  adieu. 


Ballock,  Friday  eve. 
My  dearest  F.  : 

We  left  Edinbro'  yesterday  morning  in  an  omnibus  for 
Leith,  the  seaport  for  the  metropolis,  duite  a  long  pier  is 
built  out  for  ships  and  steamers,  and  each  one  of  us  had  to 
pay  two  pence  as  toll  before  going  on  it  to  reach  our  boat. 
Thus  Great  Britain  taxes  foreigners  to  pay  for  her  public 
works  and  public  improvements. 

We  had  a  pleasant  sail  to  Sterling,  though  indeed  I  do 
not  think  it  was  so  very  pleasant,  as  it  rained  so  fast  at  one 


LETTERS.  421 

time  that  I  was  obliged  to  go  below.  I  found  the  scenery 
pleasant,  however,  if  the  weather  was  not.  Whilst  in  the 
Frith  we  were  among  lofty  hills,  but  when  we  got  into  the 
river  Forth,  the  land  became  level,  though  the  horizon  was 
bounded  by  high  hills,  I  never  saw  so  winding  a  river  as 
the  Forth.  We  were  in  the  neighborhood  of  Stirling  an 
hour,  and  yet  we  seemed  in  all  that  time  to  advance  but 
little. 

There  is  nothing  particularly  interesting  at  Stirling  ex- 
cept its  castle.  The  streets  are  dirty,  and  the  houses  old 
and  ill  looking.  The  castle  is  situated  on  a  high  hill,  and 
of  itself  is  ordinary,  but  connected  as  it  is  with  many  of  the 
most  stirring  scenes  Scotland  ever  witnessed,  it  is  interest- 
ing. From  the  eminence  on  which  it  stands,  there  is  a 
splendid  view.  On  the  north  are  the  hills  called  the  Ochiel, 
in  the  plains  below  the  castle  the  Forth  bends  and  turns  so 
beautifully,  that  you  can  scarcely  imagine  it  to  be  but  one 
river.  Around,  the  country  is  rich,  varied  with  meadows 
and  woods  and  groves,  and  dotted  with  handsome  country 
seats.  Below  lies  the  ancient  town  of  Stirling,  while  on 
the  west  is  the  vale  of  Menteith,  bounded  by  the  shadowy 
hills  of  the  Highlands.  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  seen  a 
grander  sight. 

The  troops  stationed  at  Stirling  had  on  the  far-famed 
Highland  costume.  It  consists  of  a  red  short  coat,  below 
which  is  a  "  kirtle,"  composed  of  plaid  plaited  in  folds,  and 
reaching  half  way  to  the  knee.  The  stockings  are  red  and 
white  plaid,  and  are  tied  at  the  top  with  red  ribbon  ;  the 
rest  of  the  leg  to  the  kirtle  is  quite  bare.  Rather  cool  for 
such  a  climate  as  this. 

And  now  we  are  once  more  seated  on  top  of  a  coach, 
and  in  this,  our  favorite  way  of  travelling,  go  to  Callender, 
sixteen  miles  from  Stirling.  Our  road  at  first  was  through 
a  plain,  the  greatest  part  of  which  was  once  a  morass,  now 
turned  into  fruitful  fields.  Then  we  came  into  a  hilly  coun- 
try, and  the  distant  range  of  the  Grampian  hills  seemed 
36 


422  LETTERS. 

nearer  and  nearer,  till  their  shadowy  outlines  assumed  more 
distinct  and  substantial  forms.  Some  parts  of  the  way  the 
the  scenery  was  exceedingly  grand,  our  road  passing  through 
woods,  between  the  trees  of  which  we  saw  the  quickly 
flowing  Teith.  We  passed  the  little  village  of  Doune,  in 
which  in  a  thick  copse  are  the  ruins  of  an  old  castle,  said 
to  have  been  once  inhabited  by  dueen  Margaret  and  the 
gentle  Mary  Stuart. 

We  have  rarely  had  a  more  interesting  day  during  our 
travels  than  this  day  ;  there  has  been  almost  too  much  of 
interest  to  be  brought  into  the  short  space  of  ten  hours. 
We  left  Callender  this  morning  quite  early,  and  rode  ten 
miles  in  what  is  here  called  a  "  drosky,"  a  sort  of  double 
buggy.  The  ride  was  interesting  in  the  extreme,  the 
country  wild  and  grand.  We  soon  reached  a  little  stream 
which  runs  out  of  Loch  Venachar.  It  was  here  that  Fitz 
James  and  Roderick  Dhu  fought. 

Loch  Venachar  is  four  miles  in  length,  and  we  rode  along 
its  margin  for  some  time.  It  was  a  delicious  morning,  that 
"  morning  among  the  hills."  From  the  little  cottages  scat- 
tered through  the  country,  the  blue  smoke  curled  up,  and 
from  the  numerous  mountain  peaks,  the  grey  mists  rose 
gradually,  and  the  lake  lay  quiet  and  placid,  its  clear  waters 
dimpled  by  the  sunbeams.  It  was  a  lovely  picture.  Across 
the  lake,  steep  mountains  ascended  from  its  very  margin, 
while  on  our  side  the  hills  rose  up  more  gently,  leaving  be- 
tween them  and  the  lake  a  road  sufficiently  wide  for  our 
carriage. 

At  the  north  end  of  Venachar  is  Lanrickmead,  the  mus- 
tering place  of  Clan  Alpine.  A  half  mile  farther  on  is 
Loch  Achray.'  Between  the  two  lakes  lies  the  little  village 
of  Duncraggan,  the  houses  of  which 

"  Peep  like  moss-grown  rocks,  half  seen, 
Half  hidden  in  ihe  copse  so  green." 

Loch  Achray  is  a  small,  but  pretty  lake.  We  rode  along 
its  margin,  which  was  fringed  with  the  willow    and  birch 


LETTERS.  423 

and  numerous  other  trees  and  shrubs.  I  never  saw  a  more 
beautiful  reflection  than  that  of  the  surrounding  mountains 
in  this  lake,  every  rock  and  plant  being  distinctly  seen. 

After  leaving  Loch  Achray  we  came  into  the  mountain 
pass,  called  the  Trosachs,  meaning  *'  bristly  territory,"  ex- 
tending about  a  mile  in  length.  I  cannot  better  describe 
this  wild  pass,  than  in  the  words  of  him  who  has  caused 
this  part  of  the  country,  hitherto  supposed  to  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  mortals,  to  be  well  known,  and  visited  every  year 
by  thousands. 

"  High  on  the  south  huge  Benvenue 
Down  on  the  lake  in  masses  threw, 
Crags,  knolls  and  mounds  confusedly  hurl'd, 
The  fragments  of  an  earlier  world, 
A  wildering  forest  feathered  o'er 
His  ruined  sides  and  summits  hoar, 
While  on  the  north  through  middle  air 
Benan  heaved  high  his  forehead  bare." 

The  "  ruined  side  and  summit  hoar,"  however,  are  not 
now  "  feathered  o'er"  by  "  a  wildering  forest,"  as  most  cf 
the  trees  are  gone,  but  in  other  respects  the  description  is 
true  to  nature.  It  is  indeed  a  wild  pass,  and  as  we  rode 
through  thick  trees  and  bushes,  1  often  heard  beneath 
them  the  gurgling  of  water,  though  I  could  scarcely  see 
whence  the  sound  proceeded,  and  as  I  looked  up  to  the 
mountains  that  towered  above  us,  I  almost  shuddered, 
and  I  glanced  quickly  around  to  see  that  no  foe  was  lurk- 
ing near  us.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  pass  that  Fitz 
James  lost  his  "  gallant  grey,"  when  he  uttered  that  simple 
and  touching  lament, 

"  I  little  thought  when  first  thy  rein, 
I  slacked  upon  the  banks  of  Seine, 
That  highland  eagle  e'er  should  feed 
On  thy  fleet  limbs,  my  matchless  steed  ; 
Woe  worth  the  chase  !  woe  worth  the  day  ! 
That  cost  thy  life,  my  gallant  grey  !  " 

Soon  after  we  got  through  the  Trosachs,  we  came  sud- 


424  LETTERS. 

denly  upon  Loch  Katrine,  not  as  when  it  first  appeared  to 
the  knight, 

"  Where  gleaming  with  the  setting  sun, 
One  burnished  sheet  of  living  gold, 
Loch  Katrine  lay  beneath  him  rolled  ;  " 

but  soft  and  still,  the  sunbeams  scarcely  reaching  the  water, 
merely  lighting  up  the  mountain  tops,  leaving  the  vales  in 
deep  shadow.  The  boatmen  not  having  arrived,  we  walked 
about,  drinking  in  the  calm  beauty  of  the  scene.  Oh  !  for 
the  poet's  power,  of  "  words  that  burn,"  to  describe  the  glo- 
ries of  that  fair  siaht.     I  shall  never  forget  it. 

Soon  a  large  boat  rowed  by  five  men,  and  carrying  nearly 
thirty  persons,  was  slowly  moving  o'er  the  still  waters,  just 
breaking  the  surface  into  small  ripples,  the  music  of  which 
well  suited  a  scene  "  so  lovely  sure  as  this." 

Loch  Katrine  is  ten  miles  long,  and  of  irregular  width, 
the  widest  part  being  about  two  miles  across.  It  is  encircled 
by  lofty  mountains,  some  bare  and  jagged  and  rocky,  and 
others  green  and  bright,  though  the  whole  scenery  is  of  a 
wild  cast.  All  along  the  borders  of  the  lake  there  are  but 
two  or  three  houses,  which  circumstance  adds  greatly  to  the 
wildness  and  loneliness  of  the  scene.  Near  the  eastern  shore 
is  a  small  island  covered  with  trees,  called  "The  Lady's 
Island,"  and  here  Ellen  first  appeared  to  the  stranger 
knight  as, 

"  From  underneath  an  aged  oak, 
That  slanted  from  the  islet  rock, 
A  damsel,  guider  of  its  way, 
A  little  skiff  slid  to  the  bay." 

On  the  opposite  side  is  "  the  cave  of  the  goblin,"  indi- 
cated by  a  gash  in  the  mountain  side.  There  are  many 
echoes  among  these  mountains,  each  hill  taking  up  the  cry 
as  though  "it  loved  to  prolong"  the  not  "  gentle "  soimd 
made  by  our  boatmen. 

I  can  say  no  more  of  this  lake ;  if  you  want  a  good  de- 
scription of  it,  read  Scott's  "  Lady  of  the  Lake."     One  of 


LETTERS.  425 

our  boatmen  repeated  a  great  part  of  this  inimitable  poem 
for  the  benefit  of  those  who  did  not,  like  me,  have  a  sixpenny 
copy  to  refer  to. 

From  Loch  Katrine  to  Loch  Lomond,  is  a  mountain  pass 
five  miles  in  length.  Can  you  believe  it,  when  I  tell  you 
that  after  my  melancholy  associations  with  horseback  riding, 
I  dared  to  mount  a  highland  pony  as  bravely  as  any  body, 
and  to  trot  off  through  the  wild  mountain  pass,  up  hill  and 
down,  and  fording  streams,  having  a  man  only  to  guide  my 
pony  when  we  reached  a  very  bad  place  ?  Only  think  how 
courageous  I  am  growing.  And  you  would  have  smiled  to 
have  seen  our  party.  There  were  about  twenty  persons  that 
were  mounted  either  on  horses  or  ponies,  besides  several 
gentlemen  and  one  or  two  ladies  who  walked.  I  should 
have  preferred  walking  myself,  but  I  was  afraid  of  getting 
heated,  as  I  had  on  a  thick  travelling  dress.  I  fancy  it  was 
rather  a  picturesque  sight,  to  see  us  winding  around  through 
that  mountain  defile,  two  or  three  brave  ones  cantering  on 
ahead,  then  here  and  there  a  group  keeping  closely  together, 
while  a  little  way  back  came  some  solitary  individual  trying 
in  vain,  heels,  whip,  and  voice,  to  make  his  steed  go  faster 
than  a  slow  walk.  Then  the  men  who  had  the  care  of  the 
horses  and  ponies  came  straggling  along,  their  tartan  plaids 
thrown  over  their  shoulders,  now  conversing  together  in 
their  guttural  Gaelic,  now  springing  forward  to  lead  a  horse 
or  pony  over  a  rocky  place.  Have  I  said  any  thing  before 
to  you  about  those  plaids,  which  every  inhabitant  of  this 
northern  region  wears,  men  women  and  children  ?  If  I 
have  not,  let  me  say  a  little  about  them.  They  are  thick 
and  long,  of  different  colors,  and  are  carried  in  mild  and 
pleasant  weather  over  one  shoulder,  and  across  the  back, 
and  then  brought  round  under  the  arm.  Clothed  with  these, 
the  shepherd  goes  forth  to  watch  his  flocks,  the  workman  to 
his  daily  labor,  the  child  to  his  school  or  play,  and  the  man 
of  business  to  his  buying  and  selling  and  getting  gain.  The 
women  and  children  here  go  barefoot  the  most  of  the  time, 
36* 


426  LETTERS. 

often  carrying  their  shoes  and  stockings  in  a  little  bundle,  or 
or  else  slung  over  their  shoulders. 

But  I  must  hurry  on,  for  I  have  much  yet  to  say,  and  but 
little  time  to  say  it  in,  and  so  I  come  back  to  my  pony  ride 
through  the  mountain  pass. 

I  really  took  much  pleasure  in  that  ride,  and  I  take  to 
myself  great  credit  for  venturing  to  make  my  pony  go 
through  the  rocky  beds  of  little  streams,  without  even  feel- 
ing afraid.  The  mountains  around  us  were  rugged  and  bare, 
and  in  a  little  hollow  among  them  lay  Loch  Arklet,  a  pretty 
little  lake.  I  had  a  little  more  time  to  look  about  me  than 
many  of  our  party,  for  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  had  much 
difficulty  in  making  my  pony  go  out  of  a  walk. 

I  coaxed,  threatened,  and  scolded,  but  to  no  purpose ;  at 
last  I  told  its  owner  that  it  did  not  understand  English,  but 
he  insisted  upon  it  that  it  did.  Any  way  "  go  along  "  and 
"  get  up,"  produced  not  the  slightest  impression.  I  then 
tried  French,  not  knowing  but  that  it  might  have  come 
from  "  the  banks  of  Seine  "  with  the  "  gallant  grey,"  but  with 
no  better  success.  I  resorted  to  Scotch,  and  screamed  out 
with  as  broad  an  accent  as  I  could  summon  to  my  aid, 
"  gang  alang  wi  ye,"  but  still  plod,  plod,  went  the  beast. 
I  might  have  ventured  Latin,  but  unfortunately  I  could  not 
think  of  the  right  word,  and  I  was  about  giving  up  in 
despair,  when  suddenly  I  caught  a  sound  from  some  one 
behind  me,  and  instantly  re-echoed  it,  shouting  out  "  gie 
up,"  and  the  magical  words  produced  the  desired  effect. 

Near  the  end  of  the  pass,  we  saw  the  ruins  of  Invers- 
naid  Fort,  erected  in  1713,  to  check  the  Mac  Gregors. 
Here  Gen.  Wolfe  once  resided.  Near  the  fort  are  a  few 
green  mounds,  where  sleep  the  brave  ones  who  perished 
here. 

Then  we  came  in  sight  of  Loch  Lomond,  and  a  fairer 
scene  has  seldom  greeted  mortal  eyes.  In  unrivalled  love- 
liness lay  the  lake,  protected  by  its  guardian  mountains. 
We   descended  by   a  steep  and  stony  path.     Most  of  the 


LETTERS.  427 

party  dismounted,  but  summoning  a  guide  to  my  aid,  I  kept 
my  seat,  and  safely  reached  the  margin  of  the  lake  without 
even  a  groan.  On  our  way  down  we  passed  a  cascade, 
which  jumps  by  several  leaps  from  a  mountain  top  into  the 
lake.  Wordsworth  in  his  "  Highland  Girl  "  makes  mention 
of  it. 

We  went  on  board  a  small  steamboat,  and  sailed  for  more 
than  three  hours  on  the  lake.  I  need  not  say  we  enjoyed  it 
much.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  With  the  sun  sailing 
in  unclouded  majesty  over  our  heads,  with  the  bright  waters 
and  beautiful  islands  of  Loch  Lomond  around  us,  could  we 
fail  being  pleased  1 

This  lake  is  twenty-three  miles  long.  At  the  northern 
extremity  it  is  surrounded  by  high  mountains,  rocky  and 
stern,  but  at  its  southern,  the  scenery  becomes  softer,  the 
hills  slope  gradually  away,  the  banks  are  more  fertile,  and 
abound  with  villas  and  parks.  It  is  a  glorious  scene  to  sail 
on  that  beautiful  lake,  to  look  around  on  the  mountains  lift- 
ing their  lofty  summits  to  the  skies,  to  see  reflected  in  the 
clear  waters,  the  trees  and  shrubs  of  the  fair  islands.  All  this 
far  surpasses  my  feeble  powers  of  description,  already  over- 
tasked, and  therefore  I  leave  the  subject,  saying  only  in  ad- 
dition, that  for  all  this  pleasure  and  delight,  we  had  to  pay 
but  sixpence  each,  so  we  left  the  boat  with  unmingled  satis- 
faction. 

We  did  not  choose  to  go  to  Glasgow  this  evening,  as  in 
so  doing  we  should  have  no  chance  to  see  the  scenery  of  the 
Clyde,  so  we  are  to  stop  here  to  night.  Ballock  is  a  little 
village  at  the  southern  extremity  of  Loch  Lomond,  where 
the  river  Leven  runs  out  of  it.  While  waiting  for  our  din- 
ner we  walked  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  saw  the 
light  play  over  the  lake,  as  the  sun  faded  away  behind  the 
hills.  How  grand  and  still  all  nature  seemed,  as  thouo-h 
God  had  proclaimed  an  universal  Sabbath,  and  beasts  and 
birds  hushed  themselves,  that  they  might  not  mar  the  beauty 
and  quiet  of  the  scene. 


428  LETTERS. 

And  now  the  evening  wanes  apace,  and  tired  and  sleepy, 
I  close  this  letter. 


Glasgow,  Sept.  20. 
Mv  DEAR  P.  : 

You  may  well  imagine  with  what  eagerness  on  arriving 
here,  we  went  to  the  post-office,  having  directed  our  banker 
at  Liverpool  to  send  hither  our  letters  which  would  come  by 
the  last  steamer.  Knowing  that  she  was  in,  we  awaited 
with  beating  hearts  the  answer  to  our  question  of  "  any 
letter  ?  "  To  our  great  joy  a  large  package  was  handed  to 
us,  on  opening  which  we  found  six  letters,  five  from  home, 
and  one  from  Mr.  D.,  informing  us  that  he  should  sail  for 
the  United  States  in  the  packet  ship  New  York  the  seventh 
of  October,  and  wishing  us  to  be  his  companions.  We  im- 
mediately wrote  back  to  him,  giving  the  time  when  we 
should  in  all  probability  be  in  Liverpool,  and  requesting 
him  to  meet  us  there.  How  pleasant  it  will  be  to  have  him 
again  with  us. 

And  now  to  return  to  Ballock,  or  rather  to  leave  it,  which 
we  did  on  Saturday  morning  in  an  omnibus  for  Dumbarton, 
situated  on  the  Leven,  at  its  juncture  with  the  Clyde.  The 
principal  object  of  note  is  its  castle,  built  on  high  hills, 
overlooking  both  rivers.  The  hills  are  conical,  and  on 
them,  and  between  them,  the  castle  or  rather  the  fortifica- 
tions are  built.  The  highest  of  the  two  peaks  is  called 
Wallace's  seat,  because  previous  to  his  being  sent  to  Eng- 
land, he  was  confined  there. 

At  Dumbarton  we  took  a  steamer  for  this  place.  It  is 
quite  a  bad  passage  at  the  juncture  of  the  two  rivers,  and 
twice  we  got  aground.  When  we  first  entered  upon  the 
Clyde  it  was  exceedingly  broad,  more  like  a  lake  than  a 
river.  It  was  sheltered  by  high  mountains,  but  as  we  came 
farther  along,  the  mountains  gradually  diminished,  the  river 


LETTERS.  429 

became  narrower,  the  banks  lower  and  more  verdant,  beau- 
tiful meadows  took  the  place  of  barren  fields,  and  all  along 
the  river  side  were  beautiful  country  seats,  with  charming 
parks. 

We  like  this  place  very  much  thus  far.  The  streets  are 
generally  clean  and  regular,  and  lined  with  handsome 
houses.  The  public  buildings  are  in  very  good  taste.  The 
Royal  Exchange  is  a  splendid  edifice.  Its  front  is  adorned 
by  a  colonnade,  having  a  double  row  of  fluted  Corinthian  pil- 
lars. In  one  part  of  the  building  there  is  a  reading-room  one 
hundred  feet  long.  Back  of  the  Exchange  is  the  Royal 
Bank  built  in  the  Grecian  style  of  architecture.  All  around 
the  Exchange,  the  houses  are  built  in  a  handsome  and  uni- 
form manner. 

St.  George's  square  is  surrounded  by  noble  buildings.  In 
the  centre  of  the  square  there  is  a  monument  to  Scott,  in 
the  form  of  a  Doric  column,  eighty  feet  high,  surmounted  by 
a  colossal  statue  of  the  "  magician  of  the  north,"  the 
figure  half  enveloped  in  a  tartan  plaid.  At  a  little  distance 
is  a  bronze  statue  of  Sir  John  Moore,  by  Flaxman,  and  at 
one  of  the  corners  of  the  square,  a  stately  figure  repre- 
senting Watt. 

There  is  a  very  pretty  arcade  leading  from  Argyle  into 
Buchanan  street.  It  is  narrow,  is  lit  from  the  top,  and  is 
lined  with  handsome  shops. 

On  Saturday  evening  the  streets  were  crowded.  I  sat  at 
my  window  in  the  Argyle  House,  and  looked  out  upon  the 
busy  people  hurrying  to  and  fro,  till  I  almost  fancied  I  was 
at  home  amongst  the  crowds  which  throng  our  streets  on 
some  great  day. 

Yesterday  morning  we  went  to  hear  the  celebrated  Dr. 
Wardlaw,  who  preached  on  the  duties  of  a  king,  not  a  re- 
markably interesting  subject  to  us  republicans,  nor  a  very 
edifying  one  to  the  congregation  at  large,  seeing  that  there 
was  not  one  person  present  who  had  any  thing  to  do  with 
king-making.     Over  the  pulpit  was  a  great  sounding  board, 


490  LETTERS. 

reminding  me  of  some  of  our  old-fashioned  meeting-houses. 
In  a  little  box  beneath  the  pulpit,  sat  a  man  whose  principal 
office  it  seemed  to  be,  was  to  set  the  tunes.  He  hung  out  a 
little  yellow  sign,  on  which  was  painted  the  name  of  the 
tune  he  wished  sung.  And  such  singing  I  never  before 
heard !  No  one  had  the  slightest  regard  for  time,  each 
seeming  ambitious  to  outstrip  and  outsing  the  other.  Every 
man,  woman,  and  child  in  the  congregation  I  believe  sang, 
even  your  humble  correspondent.  To  be  sure  I  did  not 
know  the  tunes,  but  I  fancied  that  it  could  not  make  the 
slightest  difference,  as  one  discord  more  would  hardly  be 
noticed. 

At  the  door  of  the  church  stood  a  man  by  an  enormous 
plate  to  receive  contributions,  which  consisted  of  all  pieces 
of  money  from  a  half-penny  to  a  sovereign  and  bank  notes. 
There  was  the  same  custom  at  Surrey  Chapel,  London,  and 
at  the  church  we  attended  in  Edinburgh. 

This  morning  we  took  a  walk  in  the  old  part  of  the 
town,  the  houses  of  which  are  indeed  old  and  decaying. 
There  is  a  fine  ancient  Cathedral,  looking  as  though  it 
could  not  stand  many  years  longer.  Around  it  is  the 
churchyard,  and  back  of  it,  on  a  high  hill,  a  new  cemetery, 
in  which  is  a  monument  to  John  Knox.  Near  the  Cathe- 
dral is  the  Infirmary,  a  large  and  quite  a  handsome  building. 

It  seems  to  me  that  never  in  all  my  life,  have  I  seen  so 
many  miserable,  dirty,  and  wretched  looking  beings,  as  I  have 
seen  in  this  town.  Talk  about  the  swarms  of  beggars  on  the 
continent,  they  look  clean,  nice,  and  well,  compared  with 
these.  Yet  here  there  is  no  begging,  for  that  is  not  allowed, 
for  if  any  one  is  caught  asking  alms,  he  is  hurried  at  once 
to  the  poor-house,  which  is  indeed  "  poor  "  in  every  sense 
of  the  word.  Many  women  and  children  have  matches,  pins, 
needles,  tapes,  thread,  &lc.,  to  sell,  and  under  the  plea  of 
bargaining,  contrive  to  tell  you  many  a  pitiful  story.  Here 
poor  people  look  as  though  they  were  in  the  very  last  stages 
of  poverty  and  wretchedness.      Such    rags,   such  tattered 


LETTERS.  431 

garments,  I  never  before  conceived  of,  and  almost  all  were 
without  shoe  or  stocking,  though  the  weather  is  quite  cool. 
I  witnessed  a  little  scene  this  morning,  to  me  truly  painful. 
A  dirty  looking  woman,  without  any  nose,  was  trying  to 
sell  a  pair  of  old  shoes  to  a  companion,  equally  dirty  and 
poverty  stricken.  As  she  named  her  price,  a  sixpence,  the 
poor  purchaser  looked  up  at  her  with  such  a  beseeching, 
woe-begone  face,  and  repeated  "a  sixpence  I  "  in  such  a 
a  tone,  as  though  to  buy  the  shoes  would  take  the  last  penny 
she  had  in  the  world,  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  tellino-  her 
if  she  would  go  to  my  room  with  me,  I  would  give  her  a 
pair  I  was  just  casting  off,  but  I  finally  passed  on,  leaving 
them  to  conclude  their  own  bargains. 

I  cannot  but  think  that  there  is  something  radically  wrong 
and  defective  in  a  government  where  there  is  so  much  mis- 
ery in  the  lower  classes.  Sometimes  I  feel  inclined  to  blame 
Victoria,  and  think  if  she  would  give  up  some  of  her  state 
and  costly  luxuries  and  useless  expenses,  the  condition  of 
the  poor  might  be  somewhat  ameliorated ;  but  after  all  she  is 
but  a  puppet  in  the  hands  of  her  ministers,  and  a  monarch- 
ical government  soon  loses  its  hold  upon  the  minds  of  the 
people,  when  its  pomp  and  parade  are  diminished.  Yet 
surely  something  might  be  devised  among  so  many  wise 
statesmen,  to  better  the  condition  of  the  lower  classes.  For 
my  own  part,  I  can  only  say,  that  whatever  may  be  the  in- 
herent evils  of  a  democracy,  I  prefer  them  to  the  glaring 
defects  of  a  monarchical  system  of  government.  But  per- 
haps you  will  think  that  I  am  meddling  with  what  does  not 
concern  me,  and  that  it  would  be  more  appropriate  for  my 
sex  to  stay  at  home  and  darn  their  husbands'  and  fathers' 
stockings  and  leave  the  government  of  the  country  to  wiser 
heads,  so  I  will  have  the  grace  to  forbear  inflicting  upon  you 
any  more  of  my  crude  sentiments  on  these  subjects  ;  so  good 
bye  to  you  and  to  them. 


43d  LETTERS. 

Londonderry,  Wednesday  morn. 
My  dearest: 

We  are  now  in  Ireland,  "  poor,  oppressed,  down-trodden 
Ireland,"  as  she  is  pathetically  called,  though  as  yet  I  have 
seen  no  more  to  warrant  me  in  coming  to  such  a  conclusion, 
than  I  have  in  other  parts  of  Great  Britain. 

We  left  Glasgow  Monday  afternoon  in  the  Londonderry 
steamer.  We  had  a  great  many  steerage  passengers,  and  it 
was  really  touching  to  see  some  of  them  come  on  board, 
wringing  the  hand  of  a  dear  friend,  and  faltering  out 
*'  God's  blessing  upon  you,"  as  the  last  parting  kiss  was  im- 
printed. No  one  was  allowed  to  come  on  board  without 
presenting  his  ticket,  not  even  a  husband  permitted  to  see 
his  wife  and  child  safely  on  board,  unless  he  was  going  him- 
self One  young  woman  came  into  the  boat,  followed  by  a 
man  carrying  her  child.  He  was  rudely  thrust  back,  how- 
ever, no  attention  being  paid  to  his  assertion  that  he  did 
not  wish  to  go  off,  only  to  deposit  the  child  with  its  mother. 
During  the  altercation,  some  of  the  hands  began  to  raise 
the  plank,  then  the  woman  screamed  out,  "  Oh,  give  me 
my  child,"  and  it  was  roughly  handed  to  her  with  an  oath, 
the  poor  woman  receiving  the  little  one  with  tears  and 
caresses.  Multitudes  stood  on  the  shore  as  we  left,  the 
women  crying,  and  making  a  "  desperate  fuss,"  and  wiping 
their  eyes  and  noses  with  their  aprons,  shawls,  cloaks,  any 
thing  except  handkerchiefs,  which  I  suspect  to  be  a  rare 
commodity  with  them. 

These  steerage  passengers  are  mostly  Irish,  who  go  over 
to  Scotland  to  work  during  the  harvest.  That  being  over, 
they  return  once  more  to  the  Emerald  Isle.  The  captain 
told  J.  that  last  week  he  took  over  at  one  trip  more  than 
thirteen  hundred. 

We  went  down  the  river  to  Dumbarton,  and  after  leaving 
that  place,  the  banks  again  grew  hilly,  the  river  expanding 
till  it  became  a  frith.     At  Greenock,  the  port  for  Glasgow, 


LETTERS.  433 

there-  is  a  handsome  Custom-house,  onfi  of  the  noblest 
buildings  in  Scotland. 

We  dined  on  board.  The  captain  asked  a  blessing,  and 
gave  thanks  after  eating,  though  immediately  afterward 
called  for  his  whiskey  punch,  inviting  us  to  partake  with  him, 
which  honor  we  politely  declined;  and  I  must  confess  I 
should  have  felt  a  little  safer  in  crossing  the  sea  at  night, 
had  I  seen  him  decline  also,  though  I  saw  nothing  in  him 
afterward  that  would  lead  one  to  imagine  that  he  was  at  all 
under  the  effect  of  liquor.  The  Scotch  are  particularly  ob- 
servant of  the  custom  of  asking  a  blessing  at  table,  our  land- 
ladies in  London  and  Edinburgh,  (both  Scotchwomen,) 
always  performing  this  duty  themselves,  though  there  were 
several  gentlemen  at  the  table. 

But  to  return  to  our  steamboat.  We  had  quite  a  favor- 
able passage  across  to  Ireland,  the  sea  being  not  very  rough. 
I  slept  soundly  till  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when 
we  were  called  to  go  ashore  at  Port  Rush,  ten  miles  from 
Giant's  Causeway.  As  soon  as  we  reached  the  inn,  we 
threw  ourselves  on  a  bed  and  slept  till  seven  o'clock.  iVfter 
breakfast  we  set  out  for  the  Giant's  Causeway,  in  what  is 
here  called  "  a  jaunting  car,"  and  a  queer  looking  vehicle 
it  is  too.  It  is  square  and  small,  the  wheels  being  entirely 
under  the  body,  and  has  two  seats,  facing  the  sides  of  the 
road.  Below  the  seat,  is  a  little  board  for  the  feet.  This 
"concern"  will  carry  but  four  persons,  the  space  between 
the  two  seats  beincr  for  the  lucrgraore.  If  the  car  is  full,  the 
driver  mounts  a  high  seat,  if  not  he  takes  one  of  the  side 
seats.  I  have  been  thus  particular  in  describing  to  you  this 
carriage,  because  it  is  the  one  universally  used  in  this  part 
of  Ireland. 

Port  Rush  is  on  a  small  promontory,  so  that  it  has  the 
sea  on  three  sides  of  it.  Our  road  to  the  Causeway  was 
along  the  coast,  and  we  had  the  sea  in  full  view,  broken  only 
by  a  few  rocks,  and  a  rocky  island  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  shore.  The  country  was  hilly  and  rather  barren,  though 
37 


434  LETTERS. 

we  saw  some  good  fields  of  wheat,  oats  and  potatoes.  A 
young  fellow  ran  for  several  miles  by  the  side  of  the  car, 
entreating  us  to  take  him  as  a  guide,  but  our  innkeeper  told 
us  not  to  take  any  one  we  met,  but  to  wait  till  we  got  there, 
and  then  our  driver  would  select  one  for  us.  But  when  we 
were  about  half  way,  we  met  the  very  one  he  had  intended 
to  choose  for  us,  so  he  got  in  or  rather  on,  and  rode  with 
us,  the  other  fellow  still  running  by  our  side. 

We  passed  the  ruins  of  an  old  castle  by  name  Dunluce, 
and  stopped  to  visit  it.  It  stands  on  a  rock  overhanging  the 
sea,  and  it  must  have  been  of  amazing  strength,  for  even 
now  its  walls  firmly  stand,  though  more  than  two  centuries 
have  rolled  away  since  it  has  been  inhabited,  and  no  one 
knows  when  it  was  erected.  The  foundations,  washed  as 
they  are  by  the  restless  waves,  are  now  beginning  to  give 
way,  and  every  year  adds,  though  almost  insensibly,  to  the 
ravages  made  by  the  invading  foe.  So  long  and  so  furiously 
has  the  sea  beaten  upon  the  rock,  that  it  has  worn  quite  a 
cavern  through  it.  From  these  ruins  are  some  commanding 
views  of  the  sea,  and  as  you  look  along  the  coast,  you  will 
see  many  arches  and  caverns  hollowed  out  by  the  constant 
surging  of  the  waves,  till  the  broad  headlands  which  rise 
above  the  Causeway  bound  the  view.  In  front  there  is  no 
limit  to  the  vision,  but  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  is  "  the 
sea,  the  deep  green  sea."  I  stood  for  some  time  and  listened 
to  its  beatings  against  "  the  rock-bound  coast,"  for  I  almost 
fancied  its  hoarse  tones  brought  me  tidings  from  niy  father- 
land. 

At  this  place  our  runner  left  us,  saying  that  if  we  would 
give  him  a  trifle,  he  would  go  back  and  bother  us  no  more ! 
A  considerate  youth  truly  ! 

We  passed  the  river  Bush,  a  stream  famous  for  trout  and 
salmon,  on  the  banks  of  which  was  a  little  village,  whose 
white-washed  houses  looked  neat  and  pretty.  A  little 
farther  on  was  a  fort  to  protect  this  part  of  the  coast,  and  a 
little  way  beyond,  we  came  to  a  village  where  we  left  our  car, 


LETTERS.  435 

and  accompanied  by  our  guide,  and  some  half  dozen  ragged 
men  and  boys,  who  had  minerals  to  sell,  we  went  to  the 
beach,  where  we  took  a  boat  and  visited  a  cave,  seemingly 
cut  out  of  the  solid  rock,  to  which  there  is  no  entrance,  ex- 
cept by  the  sea.  We  rowed  in  a  little  distance,  that  we 
might  form  some  idea  of  the  scene.  Indeed  no  one  can 
penetrate  far  from  the  opening  without  torches.  This 
cavern  is  six  hundred  and  sixty  feet  long,  and  ninety  high, 
and  is  one  of  the  grandest  things  of  the  kind  I  ever  saw. 
The  solid  sides  look  well  able  to  defy  the  never  quiet  sea. 
The  lower  part  of  the  rocks  is  of  the  most  beautiful  tints, 
red,  purple  and  green.  Around  their  base  float  many 
colored  weeds,  their  bright  hues  reflected  in  the  clear 
waters  below.  How  sublime  and  grand  is  the  scene !  I 
could  almost  fancy  this  cave  to  be  a  temple  made  by  God 
that  the  sea  might  sound  His  praise.  I  pity  the  man  who 
can  visit  such  scenes  like  this,  and  not  see  the  hand  of  God  ; 
who  cannot  say, 

"  Where,  as  to  shame  the  temples  decked 
By  skill  of  earthly  architect, 
Nature  herself,  it  seemed,  wou'd  raise 
A  minster  to  her  Maker's  praise  ! 
Not  for  a  meaner  use  ascend 
Her  columns,  or  her  arches  bend, 
Nor  of  a  theme  less  solemn  tells 
That  mighty  surge  that  ebbs  and  swells  ; 
And  still  between  each  awful  pause, 
From  the  high  vault  an  answer  draws, 
In  varied  tone  prolonged  and  high, 
That  mocks  the  organ's  melody. 
Nature's  voice  might  seem  to  say, 
'  Well  hast  thou  done,  frail  child  of  clay  ! 
Thy  humble  powers,  that  stately  shrine 
Tasked  high  and  hard,  but  witness  mine.'  " 

After  leaving  the  cave  we  sailed  along  the  coast  till  J. 
grew  sick,  and  so  we  were  forced  to  land.  Then  we  visited 
the  Giant's  Causeway,  and  here  began  our  wonder,  for  in 
all  the  differing  forms  that  nature  wears,  I  never  saw  any 


v436  LETTERS. 

thing  to  equal  this.  Tradition  says  that  this  causeway  or 
pavement  was  laid  by  a  giant,  who  in  olden  times  attempted 
in  this  way  to  make  a  path  across  the  sea,  but  after  laying 
down  all  these  stones,  and  finding  that  the  farther  he  went 
out  into  the  sea,  the  deeper  it  became,  he  gave  up  in  de- 
spair. Basaltic  rocks  of  which  this  causeway  is  a  part,  ex- 
tend for  three  miles  along  the  coast,  now  rising  up  into  bold 
headlands,  now  into  pillars,  resembling  in  size  and  shape 
the  pipes  of  an  organ.  The  "pavement"  is  formed  by 
large  stones  of  different  shapes,  so  firmly  imbedded,  and  yet 
each  so  separate,  that  not  even  water  can  penetrate  between 
them.  Some  have  three  sides,  others  vary  from  six  to  nine, 
those  with  nine  sides  being  the  most  rare,  those  with  six  the 
most  common.  The  key-stone  has  six  sides,  in  which  there 
is  not  the  variation  of  an  eighth  of  an  inch,  and  they  are 
finished  off  as  smoothly  as  though  cut  by  a  chisel,  and  in- 
deed I  doubt  if  any  human  hand  or  instrument  could  have 
arranged  so  symmetrically  these  hundreds  of  stones.  No 
one  could  have  done  it,  save  the  Great  Architect,  the  Master 
Workman  of  the  universe.  His  hand  alone  could  have 
framed  these  wonders.  And  as  I  looked  on  this,  creation's 
marvel,  my  mind  was  lost  in  awe  at  the  vast  power  of  Him 
who  spoke  such  objects  into  being. 

These  stones  and  pillars  are  of  different  heights,  some 
being  even  thirty  or  forty  feet  high.  Some  have  convex 
tops,  others  concave,  but  we  found  it  easy  to  walk  over  all. 
Some  of  the  pillars  are  more  than  five  feet  in  circumference. 

It  is  wonderful,  I  repeat,  to  see  this  multitude  of  stones 
of  different  forms  so  well  arranged  that  the  blade  of  a  knife 
cannot  penetrate  them,  and  the  more  we  gaze  upon  such  a 
phenomenon,  the  more  are  we  lost  in  amazement  at  the 
object  for  which  such  a  wonder  was  created,  and  after  all  our 
conjectures,  we  can  only  suppose  it  was  a  new  proof  of  the 
power  of  Him  with  whom  "  all  things  are  possible." 

In  one  place  these  pillars  are  so  arranged  as  to  form  a 
chair,  two  or  three  rising  up  for  the  back,  one  at  each  side 


LETTERS.  437 

for  the  arms,  one  lower  for  the  seat,  and  one  lower  yet,  serv- 
ing as  a  footstool.  Here,  it  is  said,  if  any  unmarried  lady 
will  seat  herself  a  while,  and  wish  for  a  lover,  that  she  will 
be  married  before  a  twelvemonth  has  passed.  Ah !  if  this 
were  generally  known  throughoutthe  world,  what  a  flock  in  o- 
of  single  sisters  would  there  be  to  the  Giant's  Causeway  ! 

In  an  opening  among  these  stones,  is  a  good  spring  of 
water,  named  the  Giant's  Well,  and  a  miniature  bay  formed 
by  the  sea  coming  up  between  some  rocks,  is  called  his  basin, 
where,  it  is  said,  he  washed  his  face  and  hands  every  morn- 
ing and  evening. 

Can  I  say  more  about  this  wonder  of  the  world  ?  Much 
there  is  that  might  be  said,  but  ray  limited  powers  leave  me 
no  more  descriptive  words,  and  so  I  turn  away  from  the 
Giant's  Causeway. 

As  we  returned  to  the  village,  we  were  still  followed  by 
the  men  and  boys,  all  eager  to  sell  their  specimens  of  stones, 
and  coming  down  wonderfully  in  their  prices  from  two 
shillings  a  box  to  a  sixpence.  Just  before  we  got  to  our 
car,  we  met  a  man  in  a  cart,  who  stopped  directly  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  saying,  "  I  ax  yer  honors'  pardon,  but 
I'll  stop  the  baste,  till  ye  are  by,"  which  certainly  was  polite 
in  him,  only  he  stopped  at  just  the  place,  where  we  were 
obliged  to  step  out  of  the  path  ankle  deep  in  mud  to  get  by. 

Instead  of  going  back  to  Port  Rush  we  went  to  Coleraine, 
to  take  the  Londonderry  coach.  The  country  was  more 
fertile,  and  its  features  more  softened,  though  still  many 
barren  spots  were  seen.  At  Coleraine,  finding  the  coach 
did  not  go  till  nine,  we  were  forced  to  take  a  cur,  which 
being  entirely  without  cover,  was  by  no  means  a  pleasant 
vehicle  for  a  thirty  miles'  ride,  particularly  as  there  was  a 
prospect  of  rain,  but  we  could  not  think  of  hurrying  through 
the  country  by  night,  so  we  decided  for  the  car. 

After  a  miserable  dinner  (and  by  the  way  the  first  poor 
dinner  we  have  had  since  arriving  in   England)  we  started 
for    this   place,  every   where   about  here   called    *'  Derry." 
37* 


438  LETTERS. 

The  road  was  excellent,  and  what  was  surprising  to  us  after 
riding  in  the  sister  isles,  there  was  no  toll.  The  country 
was  barren.  Peat  bogs  actually  darkened  the  ground.  Be- 
fore every  house  we  passed,  there  was  a  large  pile  of  peat, 
laid  up  for  the  winter's  fuel.  The  houses  were  of  stone, 
most  of  them  plastered  over  ;  they  were  low  with  thatched 
roofs,  and  had  small  windows,  through  which  and  the  open 
doors,  we  saw  that  the  floor  was  of  stone  or  earth.  Some 
were  neater  than  others,  though  few  looked  much  worse 
than  the  common  cottages  of  an  English  village.  The 
people  were  poorly  clothed,  yet  all  seemed  industriously  en- 
gaged in  the  fields  or  in  the  peat  bogs. 

For  an  hour  before  dark  we  were  in  sight  of  the  river 
Foyle,  whose  meanderings  through  the  fields  gave  beauty  to 
the  scene. 

Soon  after  leaving  Coleraine,  some  part  of  the  harness 
gave  way,  and  the  horse  became  restive.  J.  jumped  off, 
calling  me  to  do  the  same,  but  I  was  so  afraid  of  disarrang- 
ing my  minerals,  of  which  I  had  a  choice  collection  in  my 
lap,  that  I  stopped  to  gather  up  all  my  duds  before  I  sprang 
from  my  seat.  I  was  well  laughed  at  for  so  deliberately 
tucking  my  boxes  of  stones  under  my  arms  before  I  would 
jump,  but  the  car  was  so  low,  I  knew  1  could  not  fall  far 
even  if  I  was  thrown  from  it. 

These  jaunting  cars  are  bad  things  for  travellers,  as  they 
allow  you  to  see  but  one  side  of  the  road  at  a  time,  which 
made  me  hazard  the  following  conundrum  :  "  Why  is  a 
jaunting  car  like  prejudice?  "  I  give  you  till  I  get  home  to 
find  it  out. 

We  have  spent  this  morning  in  looking  about  this  place, 
a  small  town  on  the  Foyle,  here  quite  a  wide  river.  There 
is  little  shipping  here.  The  old  town  is  surrounded  by  a 
wall  so  wide  at  the  top,  that  carriages  might  pass  if  they 
could  but  get  up  there.  It  forms  a  fine  promenade,  and 
from  it  we  obtained  first-rate  views  of  the  town  and  its 
environs.      A  lofty  pillar  is  here  erected  to  Rev.  George 


LETTERS.  439 

Walker,  who  assisted  in  defending  the  town,  in  the  memor- 
able siege  of  Derry,  in  1688. 

Quite  as  much  of  the  present  town  of  Derry  is  built  with- 
out the  walls  as  within.  In  the  old  town,  there  are  a  ca- 
thedral, a  venerable  specimen  of  the  true  Gothic  style,  and 
a  large  castle,  now  used  as  a  prison,  the  place  of  execution 
being  a  little  balcony  in  front  of  some  of  the  windows  of  the 
second  story.  The  houses  are  ordinary  looking,  mostly 
built  of  brick. 

But  it  is  time  for  us  to  start  for  Dublin,  and  I  must  leave 
you  in  a  hurry,  scarcely  having  time  sufficient  to  say  fare- 
well. 


Dublin,  Saturday  eve. 
Dear  P.  : 

Our  journey  here  occupied  us  two  days.  We  might 
have  come  through  in  shorter  time,  had  we  chosen  to  hurry 
on,  but  we  did  not  wish  to  be  out  during  the  night,  for  we 
have  so  little  time  for  our  journey  in  Ireland,  that  we  like 
to  see  as  much  of  the  country  as  possible.  On  the  whole 
the  journey  here  was  pleasant,  though  fatiguing.  Yesterday 
we  rode  on  the  top  of  the  coach  for  fifteen  hours,  getting 
off  only  for  a  half  hour  in  all  that  time.  I  was  excessively 
fatigued  when  I  arrived  here,  so  much  so  that  I  could 
scarcely  sit  up  long  enough  to  have  my  room  made  ready  for 
me.  The  weather  too  was  cold,  uncomfortably  so  ;  for  with 
my  thick  travelling  dress,  blanket  shawl  and  cloak,  I  could  not 
keep  warm.  I  would  gladly  have  taken  an  inside  seat,  even 
at  the  risk  of  losing  sight  of  the  country,  had  there  been 
any  room  for  me,  a  gentleman  Vv'ith  his  family  occupying 
the  whole  of  the  interior.  Now  be  not  surprised  at  the 
idea  of  a  gentleman  having  an  inside  seat,  while  a  lady  is 
exposed  to  the  cold  and  the  rain  on  the  outside.  I  know 
that  in  our  country  such  a  thing  would  be  looked  upon  as 


440  LETTERS. 

rude  and  impolite  in  the  extreme,  not  so  here,  for  I  presume 
it  never  happened  a  gentleman  even  offering  to  give  up  his 
seat  to  a  lady ;  it  is  not  the  custom.  Each  one  hires  his 
seat  on  starting,  and  pays  for  it,  and  then  there  is  no  chang- 
ing during  the  route. 

We  found  the  country  varying  in  its  aspect,  sometimes 
fertile  and  cultivated  to  the  highest  degree,  and  then  barren 
and  wild  in  the  extreme.  The  meadows  were  of  a  green  so 
bright  as  to  merit  well  the  name  of  emerald.  We  passed 
through  several  towns  and  villages,  but  there  was  nothing  in 
any  of  them  to  call  forth  any  description.  The  houses  all 
along  the  roadside  were  of  the  most  ordinary  kind,  for  in  all 
my  journeyings  about  I  never  saw  so  many  ill  looking  hovels. 
In  every  country,  though  you  may  see  some  uncomfortable 
dwellings,  you  may  always  occasionally  see  some  pretty 
house  to  relieve  the  monotony.  Not  so  here,  for  all  are 
alike  ugly  and  uncomfortable,  and  as  for  the  inhabitants  they 
are  on  a  level  with  their  places  of  abode,  for  such  a  set  of 
tatterdemalions,  I  should  hope,  is  but  rarely  seen.  I  really 
think  they  must  sleep  in  their  clothes,  for  I  do  not  see  how 
they  can  disencumber  themselves  of  their  rags  at  night,  or 
once  get  them  on  again  after  they  are  off.  Often,  as  our 
coach  passed  by  some  wretched  hovel,  a  troop  of  dirty  chil- 
dren would  run  to  the  door,  their  bodies  but  partially  en- 
veloped in  an  apron  or  a  coarse  towel.  Window  tax  must 
bring  in  but  little  profit  in  this  part  of  the  country,  many  of 
the  inhabitants  contriving  dexterously  to  get  rid  of  it,  by 
having  no  windows  at  all  in  their  dwellings.  And  yet  after 
all,  I  must  do  them  the  justice  to  say  that  they  appeared 
happy  and  cheerful.  True,  we  had  numbers  of  beggars 
around  the  coach  whenever  we  stopped,  and  they  had  pitiful 
stories  to  relate,  not  to  us  however,  seeming  to  imagine  that 
outside  passengers  had  no  alms  to  bestow. 

At  Steine,  (I  do  not  know  as  I  spell  the  word  aright,) 
about  twenty-five  miles  from  here,  is  a  splendid  seat  belong- 
ing to  the  Marquis  of  Cunningham.     The  grounds  are  ex- 


LETTERS.  441 

tensive  and  beautifully  laid  out,  abounding  in  grand  old 
woods,  shady  groves,  and  quiet  dells.  In  the  centre  of  a 
smooth  lawn  stands  a  large  square  castle,  and  within  sight  of 
it  there  is  a  pretty  little  cascade.  The  river  Nye  runs 
through  the  park.  It  is  one  of  the  most  magnificent  private 
country  seats  I  have  seen  in  Great  Britain.  About  the  cas- 
tle, the  scenery  is  exquisitely  lovely.  The  Nye  runs  through 
rich  fields,  and  the  hills  around  are  covered  with  patches  of 
green  and  gold. 

We  passed  several  other  fine  estates,  but  inferior  in  beauty 
to  the  one  I  have  just  mentioned. 

I  cannot  speak  too  highly  of  the  roads  in  Ireland,  they 
are  excellent,  and  in  all  the  distance  from  Derry  here,  we 
saw  but  three  toll-gates.  Our  coachman  yesterday  was 
changed  only  three  times,  so  we  were  called  upon  quite  often 
for  fees.  Then  too  we  had  a  guard,  he  came  the  whole  dis- 
tance with  us,  and  demanded  a  fee  proportionally  large  for 
the  length  of  time  he  was  on  duty. 

x\nd  now  you  are  ready  to  ask  me  what  I  think  of  Dublin, 
and  I  shall  give  you  a  candid  answer,  whether  it  confirm  or 
destroy  your  preconceived  opinions.  I  will  not  say  but  there 
are  times  when  it  may  be  seen  to  good  advantage,  but  that 
time  is  not  now,  for  every  thing  bears  a  sombre  hue,  and 
the  streets  are  almost  impassable  on  account  of  the  thick 
black  mud,  that  lies  in  deep  layers  even  on  the  sidewalks. 
The  public  buildings  are  on  a  magnificent  scale,  but  the 
most  of  the  private  houses  are  of  brick  of  a  dingy  color, 
some  however  are  of  stone,  quite  good  looking,  but  plain. 

The  river  Anna  Liffey  runs  through  the  town.  It  is  a 
pretty,  placid  stream,  enclosed  by  strong  walls,  and  spanned 
by  several  handsome  bridges,  among  which  is  one  of  iron, 
composed  of  but  one  arch.  The  streets  along  the  river, 
are  straight  and  quite  wide.  Indeed  many  of  the  streets 
are  very  regular,  so  that  we  have  had  no  difficulty  in  finding 
our  way  about.  Sackville  street  is  the  widest  and  hand- 
somest street  in  the  city.     In  the  centre  of  it  is  a  tall  pillar 


44^  LETTERS. 

erected  to  Lord  Nelson,  surmounted  by  a  statue  of  the  naval 
hero. 

And  now  for  some  of  the  public  buildings.  The  Bank 
of  Ireland,  the  Parliament  House  before  the  union,  is  one 
of  the  handsomest  buildings  in  all  Great  Britain,  and  is 
adorned  by  a  magnificent  portico.  Opposite  is  Trinity 
College,  a  large,  plain,  but  commanding  edifice.  Then  we 
come  to  the  **  Four  Courts,"  and  what  epithet  shall  I  apply 
to  this  ?  —  for  my  vocabulary  is  about  drained.  It  is  adorned 
with  large  pillars,  and  has  a  noble  dome,  surrounded  by  a 
range  of  light  columns.  Further  down  the  river  we  see 
another  large  building,  also  surmounted  by  a  dome.  Its 
situation  at  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  and  the  quantity  of 
the  shipping  around  it,  tell  us  that  it  is  the  Custom-house. 
The  Post-office  is  embellished  by  an  Ionic  portico. 

We  finished  our  walks  by  a  stroll  to  Phenix  Park,  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  city.  It  is  a  beautiful  spot,  every  thing 
about  it  seeming  most  natural  and  rural  looking.  Here, 
on  a  large  common,  are  multitudes  of  deer  and  cattle  quietly 
feeding,  there  is  a  little  clump  of  trees,  whose  tall  shadows 
lie  over  the  grass,  here  a  closely  shorn  lawn,  and  there  a 
thick  copse,  and  to  add  to  this  charming  scene,  children 
were  gamboling  on  the  green-sward,  and  boys  were  climb- 
ing up  the  trees,  and  carriages  and  jaunting  cars  were 
darting  here  and  there  over  the  roads  which  traverse  the 
park  in  every  direction. 

In  returning  home,  we  passed  the  Barracks,  consisting  of 
several  large  stone  houses,  enclosed  within  a  solid  wall. 
Soldiers  seemed  almost  as  plenty  here  as  in  France. 

Sunday  eve. 
We  attended  service  this  morning  at  the  Cathedral,  quite 
a  long  walk  from  our  house,  being  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river.  We  picked  our  way  through  the  mud,  stepping  as 
daintily  as  though  walking  on  eggs,  for  fear  of  slipping 
down,  for  the  thick  slime  on  the  side-walks  actually  made  it 


LETTERS.  443 

dangerous  for  our  clothes,  if  not  for  our  limbs.  And  such 
a  nasty,  ragged  set  of  people,  as  we  met,  I  would  defy  the 
whole  world  to  produce.  About  every  other  woman  that  we 
encountered  was  a  beggar  and  in  rags.  In  the  short  space 
of  one  minute  we  were  accosted  by  no  less  than  eight,  all 
beseeching  charity  *'  for  God's  sake,"  or  "  for  the  love  of 
Heaven." 

The  Cathedral  is  a  large  and  imposing  edifice,  at  least  as 
regards  the  exterior.  The  interior  is  lofty,  but  the  pillars 
are  plastered  over  in  not  a  very  neat  manner.  Several 
monuments  adorn  the  walls.  The  choir  only  is  used  in  time 
of  service ;  it  is  hung  around  with  banners  of  "  the  most 
noble  order  of  St.  Patrick."  We  heard  a  most  excellent 
sermon  here,  though  from  whom  I  know  not. 

Fruit  and  vegetable  shops  have  been  open  to-day,  and 
worse  than  all,  those  dens  of  iniquity,  the  gin  shops.  I 
should  think  one  out  of  every  three  shops  in  the  city,  has 
on  the  sign,  "  beer  and  spirits." 

And  now  our  short  acquaintance  with  Ireland'is  ended. 
It  was  not  our  design  to  make  much  of  a  visit  here,  our 
object  in  coming  being  simply  to  visit  the  Giant's  Causeway, 
so  to-morrow  morning  we  leave  Erin's  green  isle. 


Liverpool,  Wednesday  eve. 
My  dearest  P.  : 

Imagine  our  disappointment  on  arriving  here  this  evening, 
to  find  by  a  letter  from  Mr.  P.  in  London,  that  Mr.  D.  was 
forced  by  continued  indisposition  to  leave  immediately  for 
home,  and  that  he  sailed  last  Sunday  in  the  Independence. 
We  shall  however  adhere  to  our  original  plan  of  going  in 
the  New  York,  which  sails  next  week.  Next  week  !  And 
is  it  possible  that  our  long  journey  is  so  near  its  termination, 
that  we  shall  so  soon  be  on  the  bounding  deep  ?  The  days 
are  now  so  short  we  cannot  accomplish  much,  and  so  cold 


444  LETTERS. 

that  it  is  by  no  means  pleasant  or  comfortable  to  travel, 
particularly  when  we  are  obliged  to  start  so  early  in  the 
mornings,  and  with  glad  steps  and  willing  hearts,  we  shall 
turn  our  faces  homeward.  And  now  back  to  Ireland  for  a 
moment,  and  then  away  again.  We  took  a  steamer  on 
Monday  morning  from  Kingston,  about  six  miles  from  Dub- 
lin. The  bay  of  Dublin  is  very  beautiful,  by  some  said  to 
equal  that  of  Naples,  but  it  wants  the  mountainous  scenery 
and  rock-girt  isles  of  the  Italian  bay. 

The  English  steamers  are  by  no  means  equal  in  beauty 
or  comfort  to  those  in  our  own  land.  Here  they  are  invaria- 
bly painted  black,  thus  having  what  our  good  friend 

calls  a  "  funereal "  aspect.  Their  cabins  can,  by  no  manner 
of  means,  compare  in  elegance  and  tastefulness  with  those  in 
our  boats.  In  fact  the  English  boats  are  built  for  the  sea,  and 
so  they  are  strong  and  firm.  We  made  the  passage  of  the 
Irish  channel,  a  distance  of  seventy  miles,  in  six  hours,  the 
greatest  part  of  which  time  I  spent  in  sleep,  my  invariable 
custom  wliere  there  is  nothing  interesting  to  be  seen.  We 
were  favored  with  a  pleasant  day,  and  an  unusually  quick 
sail,  the  steamers  sometimes  being  twenty-four  hours  out.  We 
landed  at  Holyhead  in  Wales.  At  the  entrance  to  the  town 
a  high  rocky  promontory  called  "  the  Head,"  juts  out  into 
the  sea,  thus  forming  a  good  natural  protection  to  the  har- 
bor. All  around  rise  rock-ribbed  hills,  on  one  of  which  is  a 
monumental  pillar  to  Capt.  Sherman,  who  by  a  heavy  sea 
was  washed  off  one  of  the  Dublin  steamers,  being  by  the 
force  of  the  waves  actually  carried  through  the  bulwarks, 
so  that  almost  every  bone  in  his  body  was  broken  before  he 
reached  the  water.  On  a  small  rocky  island  near  the  en- 
trance to  the  harbor,  stands  a  lighthouse.  This  island  was 
owned  by  the  keeper  of  the  light,  who  died  a  short  time 
since,  leaving  this  property  to  a  daughter  about  sixteen 
years  old.  Government  wishing  to  purchase  it,  offered  the 
guardian  of  the  young  girl  nearly  four  hundred  thousand 
pounds.     A   larger  sum    was   demanded,    but   finally   after 


LETTERS.  445 

many  negotiations,  the  island  was  transferred  to  the  state, 
government  paying  nearly  half  a  million  pounds  for  it. 
Quite  a  fortune  for  the  damsel. 

We  staid  at  a  quiet  inn  at  Holyhead  all  night,  and,  oh 
what  a  night  it  was !  The  wind  howled,  and  the  rain  beat 
against  our  windows,  and  the  waves  roared,  the  fearful 
sounds  making  me  shudder  as  I  thought  of  our  voyage 
across  the  wide  Atlantic  at  this  stormy  season  of  the  year. 
But  He  who  "  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,"  will  I 
doubt  not  in  His  own  good  time  bring  us  safely  to  the  port 
where  we  would  be. 

Yesterday  we  had  one  of  the  most  delightful  journies  we 
have  yet  taken ;  and  although  I  was  on  the  top  of  the  coach 
from  six  in  the  morning  till  after  five  in  the  afternoon,  I  felt 
but  little  fatigued,  so  varied  and  charming  were  the  scenes 
through  which  we  passed. 

Holyhead  is  situated  on  a  small  island,  a  narrow  arm  of 
the  sea  separating  it  from  the  main  land,  but  across  this  arm 
an  excellent  causeway  is  made,  so  that  we  literally  rode  with 
the  sea  on  either  side  of  us.  For  the  first  three  hours  we 
were  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  sea  ;  the  country 
was  rather  barren  and  bleak,  and  vegetation  seemed  stunted, 
but  still  I  liked  the  scene,  there  was  about  it  such  an  air  of 
wildness,  though  sometimes  amounting  to  dreariness.  The 
houses  were  much  cleaner  and  neater  than  those  we  saw  in 
Ireland.  The  women  wear  men's  hats,  and  as  some  of  them 
occasionally  had  on  large  jackets  over  their  petticoats,  ot 
were  wrapped  in  cloaks,  at  a  little  distance  I  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  recognize  my  own  sex. 

As  we  approached  the  Menai  straits,  the  country  became 
more  fertile,  and  in  some  places  really  luxuriant.  The  hills 
around  were  quite  high  and  well  wooded,  and  several  small 
rocky  islands  dotted  the  surface  of  the  straits,  their  green 
shrubs  in  admirable  contrast  with  the  blue  water.  Near  by 
is  the  beautiful  seat  of  the  Marquis  of  Anglesea,  and  on  a 
high  hill  is  a  pillar  erected  to  him.  Across  the  straits  is 
38 


446  LETTERS. 

thrown  the  celebrated  Menai  bridge,  the  finest  bridge  of 
the  kind  in  the  world.  It  is  five  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in 
length  between  the  points  of  suspension,  thirty  in  width, 
and  one  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Though 
not  so  long  as  the  suspension  bridge  at  Fribourg,  yet  as  a 
work  of  art  it  is  much  superior  to  that.  It  is  suspended  on 
bars  of  iron,  four  bars  being  clustered  together  in  one  band. 
A  line  runs  through  the  middle,  so  that  coaches  going  and 
returning  take  diflferent  sides.  It  is  really  a  magnificent 
affair.  And  then  the  country  around  is  so  beautiful,  the 
banks  are  so  rich  and  well  wooded,  that  it  really  seems 
worthy  of  being  called  a  second  Paradise.  I  was  perfectly 
charmed  with  the  spot,  and  would  really  have  been  glad  to 
have  spent  a  week  in  such  delightful  environs,  could  we 
have  been  sure  of  good  weather. 

About  a  mile  from  the  bridge,  we  passed  Bangor,  seated 
between  two  ridges  of  rocks.  We  saw  an  old  cathedral, 
a  long  and  low  edifice,  and  a  very  pretty  modern  church, 
and  this  was  all  we  noticed  as  particularly  worthy  of  atten- 
tion. Then  for  some  time  we  rode  through  scenes  inex- 
pressibly grand  and  lovely.  On  our  right,  high  hills  arose, 
on  our  left,  verdant  meadows  sloped  down  to  the  blue  waters, 
which  stretched  far  away  in  the  distance.  On  an  eminence 
overlooking  the  straits  was  Penrhyn  castle,  a  splendid  edi- 
fice of  modern  date.  At  a  short  distance  was  the  little  town 
of  Beaumaris,  its  white  houses  peeping  through  the  trees, 
and  reflected  on  the  bright  waters. 

Through  scenes  like  these  we  rode  for  some  time,  till 
suddenly  a  change  passed  over  nature's  fair  face.  The 
green  hills  disappeared,  and  there  came  in  their  stead,  bar- 
ren, rocky,  and  precipitous  heights,  the  straits  expanded, 
till  before  us  lay  the  sea,  "  boundless  and  fathomless,"  Our 
road  was  cut  out  of  the  jagged  rocks,  and  lay  directly  on 
the  margin  of  the  water.  Each  step  served  to  increase  the 
wildness  and  grandeur  of  the  scene.  And  yet  between 
these  rugged  hills,  there  often  appeared  sweet,  smiling  dells, 


LETTERS.  447 

most  lovely  to  behold.  Oh  how  many  charms  doth  dear 
*'  mother  nature  "  unfold  to  her  loving  children  !  Truly 
"  she  ne'er  betrayed  the  heart  that  trusted  her." 

Soon  we  came  to  the  old  town  of  Conway,  surrounded 
by  a  massive  wall,  fortified  by  circular  and  semicircular 
towers,  and  having  four  large  gateways.  The  town  is  a 
feast  for  a  lover  of  antiquity,  the  houses  being  built  in  the 
most  primitive  style  of  architecture.  There  is  a  magnifi- 
cent castle,  built  in  the  time  of  the  first  Edward.  It  is 
seated  on  a  rock,  washed  on  two  sides  by  the  river  Conway, 
is  of  oblong  form,  flanked  by  eight  embattled  towers. 

We  passed  through  several  other  towns,  the  houses  of 
which,  though  generally  poor  and  low,  were  neat  and  clean. 
St.  Asapli's  is  in  a  delightful  situation,  lying  in  a  lovely  vale 
between  the  rivers  Clywd  and  Elwy.  Holywell  is  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  celebrated  St.  Winifred's  Well,  and  near  it 
are  lead  and  coal  mines. 

We  passed  several  majestic  castles,  though  I  cannot  re- 
member their  names,  so  uncouth  to  an  English  ear,  and  even 
if  I  could,  I  should  not  venture  to  spell  them.  One  called 
Gwyisch  (pronounce  it  if  you  can),  was  a  splendid  affair. 
At  the  four  corners  of  the  park  were  turreted  gateways. 
The  castle  though  modern  is  noble,  and  the  grounds  around 
are  superb. 

A  few  miles  from  St.  Asaph's,  we  passed  the  seat  of  Lord 
Denorban.  The  park  is  one  of  the  finest  I  have  yet  seen, 
such  magnificent  trees,  such  velvet  lawns  ;  but  alas  !  in  the 
midst  of  these  beauties,  the  house  was  a  crumbling  ruin, 
having  that  very  morning  been  nearly  destroyed  by  fire. 
All  along  the  road,  we  met  men  and  boys  returning  from  the 
scene  of  conflagration,  and  alas !  for  humanity,  scarcely 
one  was  sober.  They  had  found  their  way  to  the  wine- 
cellar,  and  in  the  confusion  had  helped  themselves  freely. 

Certainly  the  houses  and  grounds  of  the  English  nobility 
are  worthy  of  all  praise.  It  is  impossible,  at  least  for  me, 
to  conceive  of  grounds  laid  out  in  more  exquisite  taste, 


448  LETTERS. 

and  always  at  the  public  entrance  to  them  there  is  a  neat 
porter's  lodge,  about  the  only  specimens  of  pretty  cottages 
we  have  seen  in  Great  Britain.  Sometimes  they  are  in  the 
Gothic  style,  sometimes  in  the  Grecian,  and  at  others  in  the 
cottage.  Often  their  walls  are  almost  hidden  by  the  mant- 
ling ivy. 

After  leaving  Conway,  we  had  but  few  glimpses  of  the 
sea,  but  still  the  scenes  were  beautiful  beyond  description. 
Gentle  hills,  smiling  valleys,  dark  groves,  meadows  of  the 
richest  green,  winding  streams,  and  here  and  there  the  deep 
blue  sea,  formed  the  elements  of  beauty,  here  combined  in 
one  harmonious  whole.  I  have  dwelt  at  length  on  this  ride, 
because  I  fancy  we  shall  take  no  more  like  it,  at  least  at 
present.     I  hope  the  account  has  not  been  tedious  to  you. 

We  stopped  last  night  at  Chester,  and  spent  a  few  hours 
this  morning  in  looking  around  this  old  and  curious  town. 
It  is  the  most  antique  looking  affair  w^e  have  seen  in  this 
country.  Some  of  the  houses  are  the  oddest  things,  and 
bear  the  marks  of  venerable  old  age.  Many  are  like  some 
of  the  Swiss  houses,  plastered  on  the  outside,  and  having 
the  beams  painted  black,  and  others  are  quite  unlike  any 
thing  I  ever  saw  before,  having  the  lower  and  upper  stories 
projecting  beyond  the  second,  the  space  in  front  of  that 
being  used  as  a  place  for  promenade,  many  of  the  shops 
being  in  the  second  story.  Around  this  ancient  town  is  a 
wall,  a  fashionable  promenade,  and  particularly  attractive, 
I  should  think,  to  those  who  like  to  look  into  their  neigh- 
bors' houses  and  yards. 

There  are  some  interesting  relics  of  days  gone  by  in 
Chester,  particularly  the  Cathedral,  a  Gothic  edifice  of  red 
stone,  two  or  three  other  old  churches,  built  like  the  Flor- 
entine palaces,  of  blocks  of  stone,  an  Exchange  erected  in 
the  time  of  Queen  Anne,  and  a  castle,  part  of  it  built  by 
William  I.  In  front  of  the  castle  are  handsome  modern 
buildings  of  stone,  ornamented  with  rich  porticoes ;  they 
are  an  armory,   a  county  jail,  a  shire  hall,   and  a  court  of 


LETTERS.  449 

justice.     In  the  court-yard  of  the  castle  the  soldiers  were 
going  through  the  sword  exercises. 

We  came  from  Chester  by  rail-road  to  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  Mersey,  and  then  crossed  the  river  in  a  steam  ferry- 
boat. We  are  now  at  Miss  Perkins',  No.  70  Duke  street,  a 
most  excellent  house,  which  I  should  take  pleasure  in  re- 
commending to  any  of  your  fellow-citizens  intending  to 
visit  this  place. 

Thursday  eve. 

We  have  just  returned  from  a  delightful  visit  to  Mr.  G.'s. 
Among  the  charms  of  this  social  interview,  not  a  slight  one 
was  four  Providence  papers  given  to  me  by  Mr.  G.  They 
are  the  first  papers  from  our  own  city  that  we  have  seen.  I 
have  laid  them  aside  to  read  during  our  homeward  voyage, 
not  neglecting  first  (womanlike)  to  look  at  the  marriages 
and  deaths,  and  to  glance  at  some  of  the  advertisements. 
The  papers  you  say  in  your  last  that  you  sent  us,  have  not 
been  received.  In  vain  we  have  been  to  the  office  for  them, 
no  one  knows  any  thing  about  them  ;  you  should  have  di- 
rected them  to  the  care  of  our  banker,  and  then  they  would 
have  come  safely.  Mr.  P.  has  sent  us  a  large  package  of 
Boston  and  New  York  papers,  and  I  have  carefully  laid 
them  by  for  perusal  on  that  long  voyage. 

But  now  I  must  away,  for  to-morrow  we  start  on  one 
more  excursion,  and  then  adieu  to  merry  England  ;  so  now 
for  the  present  farewell. 


York,  Saturday  eve. 
My  dearest  F.: 

We  left  Liverpool  Friday  afternoon,  and  were  but  one 
hour  going  to  Manchester,  a  distance  of  thirty-one  miles. 
For  once  we  were  so  fortunate  as  to  get  into  a  train  that  did 
not  stop  every  two  minutes  to  pick  up  a  passenger.  The 
country  from  what  we  could  see  of  it  we  judged  to  be  level, 


450  LETTERS. 

somewhat  marshy,  but  generally  fertile,  though  the  fields 
were  mostly  shorn  of  their  crops.  We  passed  two  or  three 
manufacturing  villages,  their  tall  chimnies  sending  forth 
clouds  of  smoke. 

We  tried  to  get  into  some  of  the  manufactories  in  Man- 
chester, but  were  every  where  told  that  strangers  were 
never  admitted.  I  did  not  care  about  seeing  their  goods, 
I  merely  wanted  to  get  a  look  at  the  operatives,  to  see  if 
they  were  as  pale  and  cadaverous  looking  objects  as  I  had 
heard  them  represented  to  be. 

We  found  the  air  at  Manchester  more  smoky,  dirty,  and 
thick,  than  in  any  place  we  have  been  ;  we  really  could  not 
at  any  time  see  the  length  of  a  street  before  us.  The 
houses  are  of  a  dingy  hue,  in  fact  every  thing  was  literally 
covered  with  fine  particles  of  coal  dust.  Some  of  the  pub- 
lic buildings  were  quite  handsome,  generally  adorned  with 
Doric  pillars,  an  order  of  architecture  well  suited  to  the 
dark  colored  stone  of  which  they  are  built.  We  passed  by 
a  beautiful  Gothic  church,  with  a  noble  spire.  Near  this 
was  an  open  common,  in  which  was  a  great  number  of 
horses,  and  all  around  were  booths  and  stalls,  which  led  us 
to  imagine  that  some  kind  of  a  fair  was  being  held,  and  on 
inquiry,  we  found  that  it  was  one  for  the  sale  of  horses. 
Two  or  three  temporary  theatres  had  been  erected,  the 
actors  and  actresses  of  which  were  bepainted  and  befur- 
belowed  in  the  most  gaudy  manner.  I  doubt  whether  their 
performances  would  have  elicited  much  applause  from  an 
enlightened  audience.  Indeed  their  array  of  talent  could 
not  have  been  very  promising,  for  the  price  of  admission  to 
a  play  was  but  one  penny. 

Then  there  were  stands  for  cakes,  nuts,  fruits  and  oysters, 
but  on  the  whole,  the  scene  was  far  from  having  the  variety 
and  interest  that  attend  a  French  or  Italian  fete. 

I  went  to  my  room  after  our  walk  with  my  head  aching 
from  the  effects  of  the  noxious  air,  with  my  nostrils  filled 
with  the  vile  dust,  and  my  forehead  covered  with  dark  spots. 


LETTERS.  451 

besides  having  sundry  long  streaks  of  black  adown  one  side 
of  my  face.  I  would  not  exchange  the  free  air  of  my  New 
England  hills  for  all  that  this  dirty  town  is  worth.  My  only 
wonder  is,  how  people  live  here  at  all.  I  should  think  it 
impossible  that  they  could  long  breathe  such  air  with  im- 
punity. 

We  took  a  coach  this  morning  for  Sheffield.  We  fan- 
cied it  was  a  fine  morning,  but  had  no  way  of  knowing 
through  such  an  atmosphere,  whether  the  sun  was  shining 
or  not,  but  when  we  got  out  of  the  precincts  of  the  dirty 
town,  we  found  that  indeed  it  bade  fair  to  be  a  charming  day. 
The  ride  to  Sheffield  was  really  delightful,  I  think  one  of 
the  finest  we  have  taken  in  England.  Around  Manchester, 
the  country  was  level  and  well  cultivated  ;  farther  beyond, 
it  grew  hilly,  but  the  hills  were  covered  with  verdure,  and 
between  them  stretched  bright  green  vales,  shaded  by  ma- 
jestic trees.  Then  bare  and  rocky  were  the  hills,  and  ster- 
ile was  the  land,  till  we  reached  the  vale  of  Derbyshire  near 
Castleton.  The  descent  to  this  vale  was  grand,  through  a 
narrow  chasm  in  the  hills.  At  the  entrance  to  this  pass, 
was  "  the  shivering  mount,"  so  called  because  fragments 
are  constantly  breaking  from  it  and  falling  into  the  glen 
below.  The  vale,  wide  and  beautiful,  lay  sheltered  between 
the  hills,  its  dewy  meads  and  o'erarching  trees  in  striking 
contrast  to  the  bare  summits  around.  So  charmed  were  we 
with  this  scene,  that  we  resolved  at  once  to  stop  there  on 
our  return  on  Monday. 

Again,  the  scene  changed.  We  toiled  up  steep  hills,  hills 
covered  with  rocks  and  the  "  dark  mountain  heather,"  leav- 
ing "  the  pensive  vale  in  quietness"  behind  us. 

And  yet  again  there  was  a  change ;  soft,  smiling  scenes 
surrounded  us,  till  in  the  midst  of  a  country,  fertile  and  rich 
as  a  garden,  we  reached  Sheffield.  For  miles  before  getting 
there,  we  were  aware  that  we  were  approaching  it,  not  by 
its  white  spires  glittering  in  the  sun's  rays,  but  by  the  cloud 
of  smoke  which  hung  over  it,  enshrouding  hills,  vales,  rocks, 


452  LETTERS. 

trees,  spires,  houses,  every  thing ;  but  on  this  subject  so 
noxious  to  me  1  will  not  enlarge. 

I  had  no  idea  that  Sheffield  was  so  large  a  town,  and 
could  I  have  seen  farther  ahead  than  six  yards  at  a  time  I 
might  have  been  able  to  have  given  you  some  account  of  it. 
We  spent  our  time  while  there  in  visiting  the  cutlery  manu- 
factory of  the  Rodgers',  celebrated  all  the  world  over.  Their 
show  rooms  are  filled  with  specimens  of  articles  made  at 
their  establishment,  far  too  numerous  for  me  even  to  attempt 
to  give  their  names,  and  so  I  will  mention  but  one  thing, 
a  knife  having  eighteen  hundred  and  forty-one  blades  and 
instruments,  and  valued  at  two  hundred  guineas  (one  thou- 
sand dollars). 

In  the  spring-knife  manufactory,  the  only  department  we 
were  able  to  visit,  there  are  constantly  employed  four  hun- 
dred and  ten  hands.  I  am  not  at  all  expert  in  describing 
the  process  of  manufacturing  different  articles,  so  you  will 
excuse  me  if  I  pass  over  knife-making  in  silence.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  that  in  forming,  finishing  and  polishing  one  knife, 
it  passes  through  the  workman's  hands  no  less  than  seventy- 
five  times. 

We  were  disappointed  in  not  being  able  to  visit  the  needle 
manufactory,  but  we  found  that  it  w  as  two  miles  from  Shef- 
field, however  we  are  determined  to  stop  as  we  go  back. 
We  had  barely  time  before  the  "  going  out  of  the  rail,"  to 
get  at  an  inn  some  bread  and  butter  and  a  small  apple-pie, 
which  moderate  lunch  cost  us  the  immoderate  sum  of  four 
shillings.  You  see  one  has  to  pay  for  being  hungry  in  this 
country. 

We  were  not  quite  three  hours  in  coming  here  from 
Sheffield,  a  distance  of  nearly  sixty  miles.  It  soon  became 
dark  so  that  I  could  see  but  little  of  the  country  through 
which  we  passed.  At  one  time  the  road  for  some  distance 
was  cut  through  rocks,  in  which  were  layers  of  coal,  bearing 
the  appearance  of  having  been  burnt.  Of  course  I  have 
nothing  as  yet  to  say  of  this  city.     Indeed  we  shall  look 


LETTERS.  453 

about  but  little,  our  object  in  coming,  being  simply  to  attend 
service  to-morrow  in  the  world-renowned  York  Minster. 

Sunday  eve,  Oct.  3. 
And  now  what  shall  I  say  of  this  great  cathedral  ?  After 
describing  so  many  churches,  I  feel  that  it  would  be  hardly  fair 
to  burden  you  with  any  more  accounts,  yet  it  would  not  be 
just  to  pass  in  total  silence  by  so  majestic  and  time-honored 
a  pile  as  St.  Peter's  at  York.  This  day,  independent  of  its 
associations  connected  with  the  church,  has  been  full  of 
melancholy  interest  to  us,  as  it  is  the  last  Sabbath  we  shall 
spend  in  the  old  world,  at  least  for  many  a  year. 

York   Minster  presents   an   imposing  exterior,   the  west 
front  being  surmounted  by  two  noble  towers.     Around  the 
walls  are  many  niches,  filled  with  statues.     Service  was  per- 
formed this  morning  in  the  choir  as  usual ;  indeed  the  nave 
is  now  being  rebuilt,  having  been  lately  partially  destroyed 
by  fire.     The  choir  is  large  enough  to  be  a  church  in  itself 
It  is  exceedingly  beautiful ;  the  walls  being  wainscoted  with 
oak,  the  seats  and  canopies  over  them  of  the  same  material, 
and  carved  in  the  most  delicate   and  perfect  manner.     At 
the  upper  end  of  the  choir,  there  is  a  magnificent  window  of 
painted  glass,  the  largest  window  of  the  kind  in  Europe,  be- 
ing seventy-five  feet  high.     The  screen,  separating  the  nave 
from  the  choir,  is  perfectly  beautiful,  so  delicate,   so  lace- 
like in  its  workmanship,  you  could  scarcely  imagine  it  to  be 
of  stone.     On  either  side  of  it  are  seven  niches,  in  each  of 
which  is  the  statue  of  a  king  of  Great  Britain ;    the  seven 
on  the  left  hand  being  those  who  reigned  before  the  church 
was  commenced,  and  the  others,  those  who  lived  during  the 
time  it  was  being  built.     The  ceiling  of  the  whole  church  is 
vaulted,  the  arches  rising  one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  from 
the  floor.     The  pillars  are  immense,  measuring  twenty-one 
yards  around.     All  the  windows  are  of  painted  glass,  and  it 
is  said  that  there  is  more  stained  glass  in  this  minster  than 
in  all  the  churches  united  in  the  kinordom.     At  the  end  of 


454  LETTERS. 

one  of  the  arms  of  the  cross  is  a  beautiful  window  called 
"  the  five  sisters,"  because  the  designs  were  first  done  in 
needlework  by  five  sisters  and  presented  to  the  church.  It 
is  fifty-seven  feet  high,  and  is  divided  into  five  compart- 
ments, each  one  being  the  handiwork  of  one  of  the  sister- 
hood. But  let  us  now  return  to  the  choir,  where  a  large 
congregation  is  awaiting  the  commencement  of  the  service. 
Just  after  we  were  seated,  there  came  up  the  aisle,  two  men 
in  royal  livery,  bearing  the  sword  and  the  mace,  and  behind 
them,  in  scarlet  robes  trimmed  with  fur,  walked  the  Lord 
Mayor  of  York,  a  fine  looking,  white-headed  old  gentleman, 
and  his  assistant.  They  sat  in  elevated  seats,  the  sword 
and  the  mace  being  fixed  before  them. 

Prayers  are  generally  read  from  a  desk  on  one  side  of  the 
choir,  the  lessons  from  a  lectern  directly  opposite,  and  the 
litany  from  a  small  desk  in  the  centre  of  the  aisle,  but  to- 
day they  were  all  read  from  one  place,  as  the  reader  was  a 
new  Prebendary,  and  was  reading  himself  in,  as  it  is  called. 
At  the  end  of  the  service  he  announced  his  name  as  the 
Rev.  Robert  Isaac  Wilberforce.  I  know  not  who  preached 
the  sermon,  but  it  was  quite  a  good  one. 

After  service  was  over,  we  took  another  walk  around  the 
grand  old  minster.  In  the  south  aisle  are  many  monuments, 
some  more  than  six  hundred  years  old.  Among  them  are 
monuments  to  Archbishop  Sharpe,  and  to  Sturms,  the  author 
of  "  Reflections  for  every  Day  in  the  Year."  A  part  of  this 
cathedral  is  built  on  the  site  of  the  most  ancient  church  in 
the  kingdom,  where  the  first  Christians  in  the  island  met 
together  for  worship. 

In  the  vestry  room  are  several  antiquities,  a  silver  crosier 
six  feet  long,  presented  by  Queen  Catherine,  two  chalices 
found  in  the  tomb  of  an  archbishop,  where  they  had  laid 
five  hundred  years,  several  rings  found  in  another  tomb,  a 
drinking  horn,  presented  by  Rufus  as  a  pledge  that  after  his 
death  his  lands  should  be  given  to  the  church,  and  a  wassail 
bowl,   a   gift  from  one  of  the  archbishops  of  York  to  the 


LETTERS.  455 

Cordwainers'  Society.  Around  it  are  sculptured  small 
figures,  and  below  them  is  an  inscription  giving  the  name 
of  the  donor,  and  the  society  to  which  it  was  given,  and 
stating  furthermore  the  agreeable  intelligence  that  who- 
ever drank  from  that  bowl  should  receive  forty  days'  indul- 
gence. This  society  for  more  than  five  hundred  years  had 
a  meeting  every  year,  at  which  time  the  bowl  was  filled  with 
punch  and  passed  around,  each  member  in  turn  drinking 
from  it.  A  few  years  since  the  society  was  given  up,  and 
the  bowl  was  presented  to  the  church. 

Beneath,  there  is  a  subterranean  chapel  called  the  crypt 
where  mass  was  formerly  performed  by  torchlight.  Near 
by  is  a  deep  well,  named  "  the  holy  St.  Peter's  Well,"  from 
which  was  procured  the  water  for  baptism.  Back  of  the 
choir  are  two  ancient  Roman  coffins  of  stone,  found  about 
a  half  mile  from  the  city. 

Connected  with  the  church  is  the  Chapter-house,  an  oc- 
tagonal building,  seven  sides  of  which  are  filled  with  splen- 
did windows  of  stained  glass.  Over  the  entrance  is  en- 
graved in  gilt  letters  the  eulogy  pronounced  on  this  edifice 
by  some  great  traveller.  Though  written  in  elegant  Latin, 
it  was  translated  to  us  in  the  following  inelegant  manner, 
"  As  the  rose  are  the  chief  of  all  flowers,  so  are  this  house 
the  chief  of  all  houses ;"  a  fair  specimen  by  the  way  of  the 
conversational  abilities  of  the  lower  classes  in  this  country, 
who  seem  to  know  as  much  about  grammar  as  about  Greek 
and  Hebrew. 

I  have  thus  spoken  to  you  of  the  principal  things  that  at- 
tracted our  attention  in  this  majestic  church,  though  no 
description  of  mine  can  do  justice  to  the  splendor  and  mag- 
nificence of  so  impressive  an  edifice. 

York  abounds  in  old  churches,  for  in  going  to  and  from 
the  cathedral  to-day,  we  have  passed  at  least  a  dozen,  all 
bearing  the  marks  of  hoary  age.  They  are  low^  and  small, 
each  having  a  little  tower  or  spire,  and  windows  of  stained 
glass.     A  wall  formerly  surrounded  the  city,   two  or  three 


456  LETTERS. 

antique  looking  gates  of  which  are  now  remaining.  There 
is  also  a  castle,  built  in  the  time  of  the  first  William,  at 
present  used  as  a  county  jail.  The  river  Ouse  runs  through 
the  city,  and  is  capable  of  accommodating  considerable 
shipping. 

I  have  no  more  time  to  write,  and  nothing  more  to  say 
just  now  even  if  I  had  ever  so  much  time,  so  I  close  this 
letter,  just  saying  by  way  of  consolation  for  you,  and  in 
gratitude  for  your  long  continued  patience,  that  after  one 
or  two  more  epistles  this  great  "  budget  of  letters"  will  be 
brought  to  a  close ;  and  you  will  have  no  further  accounts  of 
the  ''  things  which  I  saw  abroad,"  till  I  meet  you  face  to 
face,  and  give  the  same  free  reins  to  my  tongue  that  I  have 
hitherto  given  to  my  pen.  Perhaps  this  prospect  may  not 
be  quite  as  pleasing  to  you  as  to  me.  But  I  thought  I  had 
closed  some  time  ago,  so  without  another  word,  I  leave  you. 


Castleton,  Monday  eve. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

Here  we  are  in  this  quiet  country  town,  and  at  a  nice 
little  inn,  and  while  I  am  waiting  for  my  usual  hour  for  re- 
tiring, never  many  minutes  this  side  of  midnight,  I  purpose 
to  occupy  the  hour  or  so  that  is  given  me,  by  throwing  to- 
gether a  few  remarks  in  relation  to  manners  and  customs  in 
this  country,  particularly  as  regards  hotels  and  inns.  And 
first  of  all  I  cannot  speak  in  too  high  terms  of  the  perfect 
neatness  and  order  that  characterize  *'  public  houses "  in 
this  country,  contrasted  as  they  are  with  the  air  of  discom- 
fort that  pervades  a  dirty  Italian  or  French  inn.  Notwith- 
standing the  unbounded  approbation  which  in  this  respect  I 
am  willing  and  ready  to  bestow  upon  them,  they  have  their 
disadvantages  and  grievances,  which  I  am  about  forthwith 
to  pour  into  your  ear.  On  arriving  at  a  hotel  or  an  inn,  for 
the  remark,  as  far  as  our  observation  goes,  applies  to  both, 


LETTERS.  457 

the  first  question  asked  you  is,  ''  Will  you  have  more  than 
one  room?  "  If  you  are  on  the  wing,  intending  to  stop  but 
a  night,  and  have  any  regard  for  the  praiseworthy  virtue  of 
economy,  your  answer  would  naturally  be  "  No."  A  diffi- 
culty not  foreseen  by  you  immediately  arises,  "  Wher^  then 
will  you  dine?  "  You  open  your  eyes  wide  and  ask,  "  Have 
you  no  public  dining-room  ?  "  It  would  be  difficult  to  tell 
on  whose  face  sits  the  greatest  look  of  astonishment,  your 
own  or  the  innkeeper's.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  after  much 
talk  on  the  subject  you  are  told,  that  there  is  no  public 
table,  that  each  party  dines  by  itself,  and  that  it  is  necessary 
that  you  should  have  a  room  where  you  can  take  your  meals 
by  yourself  Of  course  you  coincide  with  the  arrangement, 
there  is  no  alternative  but  to  do  it.  You  dine,  and  perhaps 
take  breakfast  in  a  room  set  apart  for  your  own  use,  and  in 
the  morning  find  an  addition  to  your  bill  of  four  shillings, 
or  perhaps  a  little  less,  for  the  use  of  the  said  room.  Nor  is 
this  all.  We  rarely  dine  till  the  duties  of  the  day  are  over, 
an  additional  expense  is  thus  incurred;  and  we  are  charged 
two  shillings  for  the  use  of  "  wax  candles  "  on  our  table 
(no  one  in  England  burns  oil).  However,  after  dinner  I 
always  order  the  candles  to  my  sleeping-room,  and  as  I  sit 
up  late,  I  make  out,  Yankee-like,  to  get  my  "  money's 
worth  "  out  of  them. 

Morning  comes,  and  you  are  told  the  coach  is  ready,  or 
that  it  is  time  for  the  **  rail  to  go  out,"  and  you  descend 
from  your  room ;  but  mercy  on  me,  what  an  array  of  ser- 
vants, drawn  up  perhaps  out  of  respect  to  you  to  witness  your 
departure  !  duite  the  contrary.  Listen  to  their  various 
pleas  and  demands.  First  comes  the  waiter;  if  you  have 
dined  and  breakfasted,  he  modestly  demands  two  shillings, 
and  if  you  demur,  he  tells  you  that  he  has  no  wages,  but 
has  to  pay  something  himself  for  the  situation  he  occupies, 
that  he  depends  on  the  liberality  of  gentlemen  for  his  sup- 
port, laying  full  stress  on  the  word  "  gentlemen."  Well, 
you  have  done  with  him,  and  pass  on ;  a  sheepish  looking 
39 


456  LETTERS. 

youth  draws  near,  merely  ejaculating,  "  Boots,  sir,  if  you 
please,"  (perhaps  those  articles  of  leather  have  not  been  out 
of  your  room.  No  matter,  it  is  all  the  same,  *'  Boots  "  thinks 
he  ought  to  have  cleaned  them,  and  so  relies  upon  a  six- 
pence.) You  walk  on,  but  a  demure  looking  damsel  places 
herself  in  your  way,  drops  a  curtsy  and  whines  out,  *'  The 
chambermaid,  if  you  please,  mem."  If  you  offer  a  six- 
pence, she  draws  herself  up,  and  says,  "It  is  not  enough 
when  there  is  two  persons,"  as  though  it  was  logically  more 
trouble  to  make  up  a  bed  for  two  than  for  one.  However 
on  this  point  I  was  firm,  and  when  we  stopped  but  one 
night,  would  never  be  cajoled  out  of  more  than  a  sixpence. 
Nimbly  jumping  on  the  coach,  we  thanked  our  stars  that  it 
was  over;  not  so,  our  diminutive  carpet  bag  was  handed 
after  us,  the  hat  was  touched,  and  now  "  Porter,  sir,"  met 
our  ear.  An  audible  groan  is  extorted  from  you,  as  another 
sixpence  comes  forth,  and  you  know  that  the  same  thing  has 
to  be  repeated  day  after  day.  Then  at  the  end  of  twenty 
miles,  your  coachman,  a  well  dressed  man,  driving  in  kid 
gloves,  gives  up  the  ribands  to  his  successor  in  office,  takes 
off  his  hat  to  you,  assures  the  gentlemen,  glancing  sideways 
at  the  ladies,  that  he  is  sorry  to  leave  them,  hopes  he  has 
given  satisfaction,  and  ends  his  high  sounding  speech,  by 
praying  you  to  "  remember  the  coachman."  A  half-crown 
from  two  is  quite  as  little  as  he  likes  to  take.  At  the  end 
of  the  ride,  if  it  has  been  on  the  mail-coach,  the  guard  must 
be  fee-ed,  for  *'  tuting  on  a  horn,"  And  so  end  the  per- 
plexities of  that  day.  End  !  did  I  say  1  No  !  begin,  for  a 
new  source  of  anxiety  opens  before  you.  You  order  dinner 
—  "  What  will  you  have?"  Every  individual  article  that 
you  wish  on  your  table  must  be  specified.  You  may 
think  this  a  light  affair,  but  I  assure  you  I  have  found  it  no 
slight  annoyance,  for  I  like  not  to  know  what  I  am  to  eat 
till  I  sit  down  at  the  table ;  and  I  declare  I  have  sometimes 
felt  that  I  would  rather  go  to  bed  without  my  dinner,  than 
to  be  at  the  trouble  of  ordering  it.     One  thing  I  always 


LETTERS,  459 

have  on  my  tongue,  fish,  that  is  excellent  here,  the  salmon 
especially.  For  breakfast,  I  say  the  same  thing  every  night, 
"  boiled  eggs,  hot  muffins."  "  What,  no  tea  nor  coffee?  " 
exclaims  the  waiter.  When  I  say  "  cold  water,"  I  am 
sometimes  met  by  the  answer,  that  it  would  not  be  any  more 
to  have  tea,  and  we  often  find  it  on  our  table,  so  difficult  is 
it  for  them  to  understand  that  any  one,  particularly  in  a 
cool  morning,  can  take  cold  water.  And  now  my  tale  of 
grievances  is  told,  and  after  all  you  may  think  them  not  so 
very  hard  to  be  borne,  to  which  I  can  but  repeat  the  old 
proverb,  "  every  one  to  his  liking." 

My  hour  is  not  yet  up,  so  I  will  tell  you  what  has  hap- 
pened to  us  since  I  closed  my  last  letter,  in  which  I  told  you 
that  we  designed  stopping  in  Sheffield  to-day  to  visit  the 
needle  manufactory  of  the  Messrs.  Rodgers,  but  on  going  to 
their  show-room  to  make  inquiries,  we  found  that  it  was 
two  miles  out  of  town,  so  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  us 
to  go  there  and  return  in  season  to  take  the  coach  for  this 
place  ;  and  we  are  obliged  now  to  make  the  most  economical 
arrangements  with  respect  to  time,  as  the  ship  New  York 
sails  on  Thursday,  so  with  much  reluctance  we  gave  up  our 
desire  to  witness  the  process  of  needle-making,  but  just  as 
we  were  turning  away,  we  were  told  that  we  should  on  our 
way  hither  pass  through  a  small  village,  in  which  was  quite 
an  extensive  needle  manufactory.  On  our  reaching  the 
village,  however,  we  found  that  if  we  stopped,  there  would  be 
no  way  for  us  to  get  on  here,  as  no  one  in  the  vicinity  was 
licensed  to  let  horses,  so  we  had  no  alternative  but  to  keep 
on  our  route. 

Arriving  here,  we  went  out  immediately  to  visit  the  won- 
ders, and  first  of  all  we  turned  to  "  the  Devil's  Cave,"  (don't 
be  frightened,)  the  entrance  to  which  is  in  the  side  of  the 
hill,  crowned  by  the  remains  of  the  castle  mentioned  by 
Scott  in  "  Peveril  of  the  Peak."  This  cave  is  a  magnifi- 
cent affair,  exceeding  any  thing  of  the  kind  we  have  yet 
seen.    It  extends  eight  hundred  and  seventy  yards  in  length, 


460  LETTERS. 

and  at  its  greatest  depth  is  seven  hundred  and  fifty  feet  from 
the  earth's  surface.  Of  course  in  our  rambles  through  it,  we 
were  obliged  to  use  torches.  In  its  size  it  is  exceedingly 
irregular,  the  roof  sometimes  almost  touching  the  earth, 
compelling  us  to  bend  nearly  double,  that  we  might  pass 
along,  and  then  stretching  far  upward  till  it  was  entirely 
hidden  from  mortal  ken.  At  times  we  were  in  a  narrow 
passage,  our  clothes  brushing  the  rocks  on  either  hand,  and 
anon  we  found  ourselves  in  a  spacious  room,  its  walls  glisten- 
ing like  jewels  as  the  light  fell  upon  the  crystals  embedded 
in  the  stone.  Through  this  cavern  flows  a  little  stream, 
called  the  Styx.  Here  a  boat  awaited  us,  in  which  we  were 
obliged  to  lie  down,  to  avoid  the  overhanging  rocks.  Con- 
trary to  the  custom  in  classical  times,  we  were  not  ferried 
over  the  dark  river,  but  pulled  along  by  means  of  a  rope 
drawn  by  a  man  some  distance  ahead.  On  stepping  from 
the  boat  we  stood  at  once  in  a  capacious  chamber,  called 
"  Pluto's  Hall."  Around  the  walls  candles  were  fixed,  now 
throwing  their  bright  light  over  jutting  stones  and  sparkling 
crystals,  and  now  casting  deep  shadows  over  dark  niches 
and  grave-like  recesses.  Leaving  this  hall  we  wandered 
along  till  we  heard  the  noise  of  rushing  water,  sounding  like 
the  surging  of  the  sea  at  a  distance.  Nearer  and  still  nearer 
came  the  sound,  till  we  reached  the  room  called  "  Roger 
Rain's  Chamber,"  (so  named  in  honor  of  one  of  the  old  in- 
habitants of  Castleton).  Adown  the  walls  of  this  chamber 
the  water  came  trickling,  and  never  for  a  moment  since  the 
discovery  of  the  cave  has  it  been  known  to  have  ceased 
dropping. 

We  walked  beside  a  little  rivulet,  which  clear  as  crystal 
flows  over  a  pebbly  bed,  till  we  came  to  the  termination  of 
the  cave,  and  then  slowly  retraced  our  steps,  and  got  back 
once  more  to  the  light  of  day.  I  fear  I  have  given  you  but 
a  feeble  description  of  this  impressive  scene,  and  I  should 
utterly  fail  in  attempting  to  convey  to  you  an  idea  of  the 
effect  it  produced  on  us.     Coming  as  we  did  from  one  of 


LETTERS.  461 

the  masterpieces  of  art,  St.  Peter's  at  York,  to  this  cavern 
the  handiwork  of  God  Himself,  the  change  was  striking  in 
the  extreme,  and  we  had  a  renewed  opportunity  of  observing 
how  far  superior  was  His  workmanship,  to  the  noblest  in- 
vention of  man's  genius.  Here  nature  is  seen,  clothed  in 
her  wildest,  grandest,  most  imposing  robes ;  here,  in  tones 
not  to  be  misunderstood,  she  speaks  to  the  soul  of  over- 
powering sublimity.  The  capacious  chambers,  the  narrow 
passages,  the  o'erarching  roof,  the  gushing  stream,  are  they 
not  overwhelming  in  their  grandeur  ? 

I  would  not  willingly  have  missed  seeing  this  majestic 
cavern.  How  fitting  that  we  should  leave  the  old  world, 
with  such  scenes  so  fresh  in  our  memory  !  To-morrow  we 
shall  probably  have  an  interesting  and  exciting  day.  I  will 
not  therefore  close  my  letter  till  I  can  give  you  the  results 
of  the  day's  sight-seeing. 

Tuesday  eve. 

After  an  early  breakfast  this  morning,  we  set  out  to  visit 
the  remaining  curiosities  of  Castleton,  going  first  to  the 
celebrated  **  Blue  John  "  Mine.  We  had  a  long  walk  to 
reach  it,  going  for  some  distance  along  the  road,  then  turn- 
ing off  by  a  narrow  path  over  hills  and  through  vales,  the 
rocks  and  the  stones  slippery  with  wet,  so  that  they  were 
insecure  stepping  places  for  our  feet.  In  a  lonely,  retired 
spot  among  the  hills  is  the  entrance  to  the  mine.  We 
plunged  at  once  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  going  by  a 
steep  descent  down  a  narrow  path,  a  natural  opening  in  the 
rocks.  This  fissure  extended  far  up  over  our  heads,  large 
and  partially  detached  rocks  hanging  in  a  threatening  man- 
ner over  us.  I  could  not  but  shudder  as  I  glanced  upward, 
to  think  how  slight  a  thing  might  keep  us  in  that  subter- 
ranean abode  till  our  bodies  mouldered  away.  In  two  dif- 
ferent places  this  narrow  passage  expands  to  a  large  cavern, 
the  top  of  which  is  lost  in  obscurity. 

Through  a  part  of  this  mine  winds  a  small  but  clear 
39* 


LETTERS. 

Stream,  and  it  seemed  to  us  almost  [like  *a  dream,  and  a 
strange  dream  too,  thus  to  wander  by  torchlight  through 
these  hidden  regions,  and  by  this  quiet  rivulet.  The  chief 
object  of  interest  to  us  was  the  crystallizations  seen  in  the 
utmost  splendor  and  profusion  in  this  mine.  On  one  side 
of  the  narrow  passage  were  the  most  brilliant  and  sparkling 
crystals,  on  the  other  the  wall  was  covered  with  petrifactions. 
From  the  roof  of  the  caverns  hung  long  stalactites,  looking 
like  large  icicles,  and  reminding  me  of  some  parts  of  the 
Alpine  glaciers. 

I  never  imagined  any  thing  so  magnificent  as  the  appear- 
ance presented  by  these  caverns,  as  the  rays  of  light  from  a 
large  chandelier  played  over  the  walls,  lighting  up  the  crys- 
tallizations with  a  more  than  earthly  splendor.  In  the  long 
drooping  stalactites,  and  in  the  various  crystals  sparkling 
on  the  walls,  were  seen  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow. 

Among  the  rocks  and  crystallizations  is  the  spar  known 
here  by  the  name  of  "  Blue  John."  It  is  of  a  deep  blue 
color,  and  lies  in  large  veins,  the  effect  of  which  is  very 
beautiful  seen  by  the  flashing  light  of  torches.  From  this 
spar  fluoric  acid  is  made,  used  in  etching  glass. 

We  were  perfectly  enchanted  with  the  view  of  this  mine, 
so  different  from  any  thing  we  have  ever  before  seen.  We 
lingered  and  still  lingered  around,  now  stopping  to  gaze  at 
some  large  stalactites,  which  from  their  size  and  shape  are 
called  the  organ,  and  now  looking  at  the  different  petrifica- 
tions seen  on  every  hand,  now  large  pieces  of  wood,  now 
shrubs  and  plants,  and  now  snails  and  insects.  How  great, 
how  varied  are  creation's  wonders !  how  diversified  the 
pages  of  nature's  book  !  Every  day  some  new  beauty  is 
unfolded  to  our  gaze,  so  that  it  seems  a  luxury  to  live  in  a 
world  like  this. 

But  let  us  proceed  now  to  the  Speedwell  mines,  going  by 
the  wild  pass  called  the  "  Winnats."  Here  every  thing  was 
as  wild  and  grand  as  the  most  enthusiastic  lover  of  nature 
could  desire,  a  path  winding  between  lofty  and  jagged  hills, 


LETTERS.  463 

the  tops  of  which  in  their  rude  forms  and  shapes  resem- 
bled ruined  forts  and  castles.  I  was  on  the  point  of  sayino- 
that  I  never  saw  any  thing  so  grand  as  that  pass,  but  I  re- 
member Switzerland,  and  so  will  qualify  it  by  saying,  that 
there  is  nothing  like  it  in  Great  Britain. 

Through  this  pass  the  wind  came  so  powerfully  as  to  force 
us  to  close  our  umbrella,  though  it  was  raining  quite  fast. 
The  old  road  was  through  this  ravine,  but  so  many  acci- 
dents occurred  to  the  coaches  and  the  passengers  from  the 
violence  of  the  wind,  persons  being  often  blown  from  the 
top,  and  indeed  heavy  coaches  being  frequently  overturned, 
that  the  road  was  abandoned,  and  a  new  and  more  circui- 
tous one  laid  out. 

While  in  the  midst  of  this  wild  scene,  we  came  suddenly 
upon  a  view  of  the  valley,  which  lay  nestled  among  the  hills, 
its  bright  fields  and  grand  old  trees  in  striking  contrast  to 
the  barren  summits  around. 

Once  more  we  descended  to  the  inner  regions  of  the 
earth,  this  time  going  down  more  than  a  hundred  steps. 
Here  we  were  obliged  to  take  a  small  boat.  But  I  can't 
describe  this  mine  to  you  in  a  regular  and  systematic  man- 
ner, so  you  must  let  me  give  the  description  in  my  own 
desultory  way.  The  Speedwell  mine  has  been  worked  about 
eighty  years ;  when  first  opened,  it  was  supposed  that  it  would 
yield  a  great  quantity  of  lead,  as  sixteen  different  veins 
could  be  seen,  but  on  beginning  to  work  it,  these  flattering 
hopes  proved  delusive,  the  veins  being  but  small,  and  of 
an  inferior  quality  of  lead,  so  that  the  individuals  engaged 
in  the  undertaking  were  ruined  by  the  speculation.  It  is 
now  worked  only  in  the  winter. 

The  passage  cut  through  the  limestone  rocks,  and  used  in 
working  the  mines,  extends  in  a  perfectly  straight  line  for 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  and  does  not  vary  four  inches 
in  width  the  whole  distance.  It  is  arched,  and  presents  a 
fine  appearance,  being  partially  lit  by  candles,  fastened 
at  regular  intervals  alonor  the  sides.     We  rowed  the  whole 


464  LETTERS. 

length  of  this  passage,  and  then  came  to  a  large  cavern  in 
which  there  is  a  waterfall. 

When  the  mine  was  first  worked,  there  was  no  water  at 
all  to  be  seen,  till  at  the  end  of  the  long  passage  the 
miners  suddenly  opened  upon  the  cavern,  then  the  water 
quickly  gushed  out,  bearing  every  thing  before  it.  The 
workmen  fled,  consternation  written  on  every  face,  but  no 
material  injury  ensued,  only  that  ever  since  boats  have 
been  employed,  the  water  so  far  filling  up  the  passage  as 
to  render  it  utterly  impossible  to  carry  on  the  work  in  any 
other  way. 

But  this  cavern  is  the  most  wonderful  thing  I  ever  saw. 
Yes,  after  visiting  so  many  places  of  interest,  I  think  I 
may  safely  pronounce  this  the  most  wonderful  of  all,  and 
the  object  of  all  others  that  most  filled  my  mind  with  ad- 
miration and  awe,  and  I  may  almost  say  with  fear. 

But  let  me  describe  it  to  you  more  particularly.  A  strong 
platform  has  been  built  over  the  water  with  a  railing  around 
it,  and  standing  on  this  floor  and  leaning  over  this  railing, 
we  stood  gazing  down  into  the  depths  beneath,  a  water- 
fall one  hundred  and  forty-four  feet  deep,  sending  up  its 
thundering  noise  below.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  experienced 
more  awful  sensations  than  at  that  moment,  when  with  one 
startled  hurried  glance  I  took  in  the  whole  scene,  the  boil- 
ing, foaming  water  below,  and  the  vaulted  ceiling  rising  so 
far  over  our  heads,  as  to  be  actually  lost  in  obscurity.  In- 
deed no  one  knows  how  far  up  it  does  extend,  for  a  rocket 
has  been  sent  up  two  hundred  and  seventy  yards,  but  did 
not  reach  the  top.  Nor  is  this  all  that  is  wonderful  and 
mystical  about  this  cavern.  The  fall  empties  into  a  basin 
or  lake,  about  fifteen  yards  across  at  the  top,  but  how  far  it 
extends  within  the  inner  regions  of  the  earth,  or  how  deep 
it  is,  no  mortal  knows,  but  this  one  thing  is  known,  that 
no  bottom  has  ever  been  found  to  it,  although  a  cord  three 
hundred  feet  long  has  been  lowered  down.  One  of  the 
guides   told   us   that  during  eleven    years,  sixteen   tons  of 


LETTERS.  465 

rubbish  taken  from  the  mine  were  thrown  daily  into  this 
basin,  without  apparently  diminishing  its  depth.  May  it 
not  aptly  be  called  a  bottomless  pit '?  Can  you  imagine  any 
thing  more  sublime  or  terrific  than  to  stand  in  that  cavern 
and  look  upon  its  solid  walls,  its  ceiling  veiled  in  obscu- 
rity, to  gaze  down  upon  that  dark,  mysterious  lake,  and 
listen  to  the  unceasing  din  of  that  waterfall,  and  then  to 
know,  to  feel  that  one  step  forward  would  carry  you  far, 
far  beyond  mortal  aid  ?  Oh  it  is  awfully  grand  and  impres- 
sive. 

This  stream  of  water  has  some  connection  with  the  one 
which  runs  through  "the  Devil's  Cave,"  as  chaff  thrown  in 
here,  in  due  time  makes  it  appearance  there.  Another  ex- 
periment has  been  tried ;  some  little  twigs  were  thrown  into 
a  stream  about  four  miles  from  Castleton,  and  though  it 
is  not  known  where  this  stream  enters  the  earth,  yet, 
these  twiffs  in  a  little  while  were  seen  on  the  water  in  this 

o 

mine. 

As  we  reseated  ourselves  in  our  little  boat,  it  was  a  beau- 
tiful sight  that  long  narrow  passage,  with  its  little  twinkling 
lights,  reflected  in  the  still  water. 

Sometimes  the  Duke  of  Derbyshire  visits  the  mine  and 
cavern,  and  then  the  whole  passage  is  brilliantly  illuminated, 
forty  pounds  of  candles  being  used  for  that  purpose.  A 
band  of  musicians  is  stationed  near  the  centre,  and  the 
effect  of  the  music  in  such  a  place  must  be  fine  indeed. 

Well,  we  did  not  feel  as  though  we  had  seen  quite  enough 
of  this  interesting  country,  so  we  trudged  across  the  fields 
through  long  wet  grass  to  the  Odin  lead  mines.  We  did 
not  however  go  down  into  the  mines,  as  the  descent  is  diffi- 
cult, and  the  air  damp  and  unwholesome.  I  doubt  much 
whether  we  should  have  been  deterred  by  these  difficulties, 
but  there  was  still  another,  the  time  was  wanting,  for 
we  must  get  back  to  Liverpool  this  evening,  as  on  Tues- 
day morning  we  sail.  We  went  into  the  huts  above  the 
mine,  where  we  saw  the  work-people  engaged  in  different 


466  LETTERS. 

processes.  When  the  lead  is  brought  from  the  mine,  it  is 
broken  up,  and  separated  from  the  stone.  Then  it  is  pounded 
with  a  hammer  into  very  small  pieces,  and  put  into  a  sieve 
over  water ;  the  pure  lead  sifts  through  and  falls  to  the  bot- 
tom, the  alloy  remains  in  the  sieve.  The  water  is  then 
drawn  off,  and  the  lead  is  sent  away  to  be  smelted. 

The  man  who  showed  us  around  this  mine  was  very  old, 
and  he  has  been  engaged  in  working  here  for  eighty  years, 
having  begun  when  he  was  a  little  boy.  He  is  active  and 
energetic,  stepping  around  as  vigorously  and  talking  as 
briskly  as  though  he  was  near  the  beginning  of  life,  instead 
of  its  close.  According  to  his  information,  this  is  the  oldest 
lead  mine  in  England,  having  been  worked  in  the  earliest 
ages  of  the  country,  tradition  says  even  before  the  times  of 
our  Saviour. 

Wet  and  somewhat  tired  we  returned  to  the  inn,  and  after 
unloading  our  pockets  of  the  specimens  we  had  collected, 
we  climbed  up  the  hill  to  take  a  near  view  of  the  old  Peveril 
Castle,  and  I  think  of  all  hills  I  ever  ascended,  this  is  the 
steepest.  How  they  ever  built  a  castle  on  the  top  of  such 
a  hill,  far  surpasses  my  feeble  knowledge. 

We  met  a  man  who  officiously  offered  to  be  our  con- 
ductor, and  though  we  declined  his  services,  he  kept  by  us, 
and  we  were  quite  amused  by  the  praises  he  so  lavishly  be- 
stowed upon  me,  continually  telling  me  that  he  never  saw  a 
lady  who  went  up  so  easily  and  so  actively,  but  when  he 
found  out  that  we  had  been  out  for  more  than  six  hours, 
he  seemed  to  be  perfectly  overwhelmed  with  astonishment 
at  my  powers  of  endurance. 

From  the  top  of  the  hill  the  view  was  really  magnificent. 
On  one  side  we  saw  hills  bare,  rocky,  and  wild,  while  on 
the  other  the  scene  was  soft  and  beautiful,  the  green  vale 
seeming  to  sleep  calmly  and  securely  in  the  mountain  fast- 
nesses. Of  the  old  castle,  interesting  to  us  from  the  charm 
thrown  around  it  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  but  one  square  tower 
now  remains,   the  village  church  having  been  built  of  the 


LETTERS.  467 

Stone  taken  from  the  ruins.  A  part  of  the  wall  is  yet  stand- 
ing ;  it  is  overgrown  with  ivy,  and  presents  a  picturesque 
appearance. 

As  we  descended  the  hill,  we  had  a  grand  view  of  the 
ravine,  in  which  is  the  entrance  to  the  Cave  of  his  Satanic 
Majesty,  a  wild  ravine  surely.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill,  our 
self-constituted  guide  pointed  out  the  house  said  to  have 
been  Major  Bridgenorth's. 

In  this  vale  of  Derbyshire,  we  saw  several  persons  who 
had  goitres  on  their  necks,  caused,  it  is  supposed,  by  drink- 
ing the  water  from  the  mountains. 

Once  more  we  are  in  our  comfortable  quarters  in  Liver- 
pool. The  first  information  we  had  on  arriving  here  was 
that  the  New  York  does  not  sail  till  Friday,  thus  giving  me 
an  opportunity  of  writing  you  one  more  letter,  which  with 
this  I  shall  leave  here  to  be  forwarded  by  the  next  steamer, 
as  the  probability  is  that  we  shall  not  get  home  till  long 
after  they  reach  you. 

I  am  too  tired  at  present  to  add  another  word. 


Liverpool,  Thursday,  Oct.  7. 
My  dearest  Friend  : 

Our  last  day  on  land,  at  least  for  some  time  to  come  ;  how 
many  days  and  nights  we  shall  be  rocked  about  on  "  the 
boisterous  main,"  is  more  than  we  can  tell,  probably  a  goodly 
number,  as  at  this  season  of  the  year  the  packet  ships  have 
long  voyages.  But  with  our  usual  propensity  to  look  on  the 
bright  side,  we  hope  for  the  best,  and  with  willing  feet  and 
joyous  hearts,  we  shall  step  on  board  the  gallant  ship  that  is 
to  bear  us  on  our  homeward  path. 

Our  time  yesterday  and  to-day  has  been  occupied  with 
preparing  for  our  departure.  The  last  walk  has  been  taken, 
the  last  duties  performed,  and  now  as  usual  on  all  occasions, 
I  turn  to  you,  and  with  a  sort  of  melancholy  pleasure  indite 
this  my  last  epistle. 


463  LETTERS. 

This  morning  we  walked  to  Everton,  a  village  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  from  Liverpool.  At  the  head  of  this  street 
we  passed  the  cemetery,  a  pretty,  romantic  spot  on  the  side 
of  a  hill.  The  tombs  are  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock.  A  neat 
little  church  is  at  the  entrance  to  the  grounds.  As  we  drew 
near  a  funeral  procession  was  issuing  from  the  church. 
No  where  have  I  seen  such  display  in  funerals  as  in  Eng- 
land. Every  thing  is  arranged  with  the  utmost  pomp  and 
parade.  Enormous  bunches  of  black  feathers  wave  from  the 
top  of  the  hearse.  The  carriages  are  all  black,  black  trap- 
pings cover  the  horses,  and  sable  plumes  nod  from  their 
heads.  All  the  men  in  the  procession  have  wide  pieces  of 
black  crape  or  silk  around  their  hats,  the  long  ends  hanging 
down  on  their  shoulders.  I  have  never  seen  ladies  in  any 
of  the  carriages,  and  from  a  certain  air  and  expression  in 
all  the  men,  I  have  been  led  to  think  the  bearers  and 
mourners  hired  for  the  occasion.  But  be  that  as  it  may, 
there  is  an  ostentation  of  mourning  about  all  the  funeral  pro- 
cessions I  have  seen,  exceedingly  repugnant  to  my  ideas  of 
that  heart-felt  sorrow  which  seeks  to  avoid  the  public  eye. 

The  remainder  of  our  walk  was  rather  devoid  of  interest. 
We  passed  some  fine  houses,  but  the  greater  part  of  them 
was  of  brick,  and  quite  ordinary  looking.  The  principal 
thing  which  attracted  us  to  Everton  was  a  church  built  of 
cast  iron,  that  is,  the  frame-work  is  of  iron,  the  filling  up, 
stone. 

The  hill  whereon  the  village  stands,  must  command  a  fine 
view  of  the  river  and  the  channel,  when  the  air  is  suffi- 
ciently clear,  which  was  far  from  being  the  case  this  morn- 
ing. We  thought  we  saw  a  faint  gleaming  of  water  through 
the  smoke  and  fog,  but  we  were  not  sure. 

And  thus  has  ended  our  last  day  in  the  old  world.  Now 
farewell  to  merry  England,  England  with  its  thriving  towns, 
its  scenes  of  quiet  loveliness,  its  hills  and  vales  and  beau- 
teous lakes;  and  farewell  to  beautiful  France,  to  gay,  en- 
chanting Paris,   to  sunny  Italy,   and  hardest  of  all  to  say, 


NOTE.  469 

farewell  to  thee,  dear  Switzerland,  the  country  that  next  to 
my  own  native  land,  I  love  the  best.  I  fear  I  never  shall 
see  thee  again,  never  climb  thy  snow-clad  mountains,  or 
rest  in  thy  beautiful  vales,  never  listen  to  the  wild  music  of 
thy  waterfalls,  and  the  noisy  dashings  of  thy  streams,  but  in 
my  dreams  I  shall  oft  revisit  thee.  Well  does  it  cause  sor- 
row in  my  heart  to  bid  adieu,  perhaps  forever,  to  loved 
scenes  like  these ;  yet  there  comes  joy  too,  for  in  leaving 
them,  I  turn  to  my  own  father-land,  the  land  of  my  birth, 
the  land  where  are  all  that  I  love.  Oh  joy,  joy  !  Shall  I 
indeed  see  my  home  again,  my  own  loved  home  ?  Then 
farewell  to  the  varied  scenes  I  have  gazed  upon  with  so 
much  delight,  and  welcome  the  sea,  welcome  America ! 


NOTE. 

After  a  boisterous  and  stormy  passage  of  forty-four  days, 
we  stepped  once  more  on  our  native  shore.  Will  the 
reader  allow  me  to  give  the  following  statistics  of  our 
journey  ?  We  travelled  by  sea  in  two  different  ships  seven 
thousand  miles ;  in  steamers,  thirteen  hundred  and  twelve  ; 
by  rail-road,  six  hundred  and  seventy-nine;  in  diligences, 
thirteen  hundred  and  fifty ;  in  a  carriage  we  hired,  eleven 
hundred  and  fifty ;  in  coaches,  eight  hundred  and  forty-four ; 
and  in  other  kinds  of  carriages,  three  hundred ;  making  in 
all,  twelve  thousand  six  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles,  of 
which  nineteen  hundred  and  sixty-four  miles  were  in  Great 
Britain.  Eight  hundred  miles  we  rode  on  the  outside  of 
coaches.  Of  course  I  can  make  no  mention  of  the  countless 
40 


470  NOTE. 

number  of  miles  we  rode  in  hackney  coaches  and  cabs  in 
our  excursions  around  different  cities. 

As  we  were  gone  from  home  two  hundred  and  forty  days, 
our  average  rate  of  travelling  was  little  more  than  fifty  miles 
a  day.  In  all  this  long  journey  we  met  with  nothing  that 
deserves  the  name  of  an  accident,  although  we  were  often 
travelling  night  and  day,  starting  at  all  hours,  and  going  in 
all  sorts  of  conveyances.  We  never  lost  even  the  slightest 
article  from  our  baggage,  and  were  never  subjected  to  those 
little  annoyances  arising  from  leaving  things  behind,  or  being 
too  late  at  steam-boat,  rail-road,  or  coach-office. 


-k  is  due  t,wo  weeks  from  the  last  date  stamped 
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DUE  DATE 

" 

201-6503 

Printed 
In  USA 

COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 


0043218946 


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